3Some
by S J Smith
Summary: Drabbles starring the Rezembool Trio, from childhood on.
1. Chapter 1

3Some  
S J Smith

Disclaimer: Not now, never have been, making a profit off of this 'verse. Just in love with it.

Note: The Rezembool Trio are my favorite characters in the series, really. The drabbles herein will contain bits from the manga and from the anime or combinations thereof.

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None of them can remember when they weren't a trio, really. Ed, being eldest, likes to pretend he can but the other two know it isn't true. Their stories about childhood almost all begin with, "Remember that time…?"

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	2. Chapter 2

When the brothers went away after their mother died to study with the alchemist woman, Winry couldn't help but cry. They were her brothers, after all; they were leaving her alone. It didn't help to realize that they'd been pulling away almost since the day they had buried Miss Trisha. What she hadn't expected was how much it hurt, not having them right there, ready to do the chores or play or even just sit on the porch and drink lemonade. When they came back, they acted as if they hadn't even left, making Winry wonder if they'd even missed her.


	3. Chapter 3

Edward doesn't think much of the future aside from learning. He wants to know things right now, dammit, and he wants to understand that knowledge. A part of him realizes that his thirst for this makes him shut people out but he tells himself that he'll make it up to them, later.

The problem is that he has no clue how long it might be.


	4. Chapter 4

Sometimes, Alphonse wishes Brother would take Granny and Winry up on their offers to stay at the Rockbell house. Walking home in the evening wasn't the same, not without any lights on at their place or Mom blinking the lantern to call them in for the night. He tries to tell himself he doesn't miss it but he does. He doesn't say anything to Edward, though. His big brother has enough things on his mind.


	5. Chapter 5

Winry hates feeling left out. They were supposed to be a team, Ed, Al and her, but now the brothers kept her at arms' length, if they even let her get that close. Granny tells her it's just the way boys are, that she should give them a little time and space, things would go back to normal eventually.

When Alphonse showed up at the door as a suit of armor, cradling a damaged, bleeding Edward in his arms, Winry knew things would never be the same again.


	6. Chapter 6

Edward doesn't remember much about that year after he and Alphonse tried to bring their mother back to life. Most of it seemed to pass in a fog of fever and pain, until he wasn't sure, sometimes, if he was awake or lost in a nightmare. The only thing he remembers clearly is the sound of a soothing voice, often accompanied by a cool cloth on his forehead and hands, that while they forced him sometimes to do things that hurt, petted him afterwards to take away the pain.

It isn't until years later that Ed realizes it hadn't been Granny Pinako at his side but Winry who had taken care of him.


	7. Chapter 7

Alphonse remembers too much about that year; the stifled cries that come from the surgery room, the exhaustion cutting so deeply not only into Granny's face but Winry's, too. None of them complain; not Brother nor either of the Rockbell women but Alphonse knows how much it has to take out of them.

What hurts him most is there isn't anything he can really do to help aside from staying out of the way.


	8. Chapter 8

To this day, Winry has nightmares where she can't do anything to save Ed. In her dreams, he bleeds to death or his automail surgery fails or his fever never breaks. She wakes abruptly, panting hard, heart booming in her chest, so hard it feels like it might break out of her ribs. Winry wishes she knew where the brothers were, right now, so she could call and make sure they were both safe.


	9. Chapter 9

Edward is surprised to realize that Winry doesn't know how to dance. He figured that ability came along with girl genes; like curves and legs (not that he's actually looking…aw, hell, he is), so when the waiter at that restaurant they all like in Central, where they play music and sing and dance, comes and offers to sweep her out of her chair, Winry grins and shakes her head. "No, no," she says, waving her hands and blushing. Disappointed, the waiter goes to another table, another victim, pulling her out of her chair and whirling her around the room.

Winry lets out a little sigh and Al chuckles. Ed doesn't get the joke until his brother teases, "You still don't know how to dance, Winry?"

Edward shoots her a glance as she pouts, folding her arms. "It's not like I have a lot of time for that, Al," and he lets it drop and that is all that is said of it that evening.

But a seed is planted, a little thought that niggles in the back of Edward's head, a little idea of teaching Winry to dance, of giving her a reason to dance, and Ed adds it to the list of things he really wants to do, once he and Al get their bodies back to normal.


	10. Chapter 10

"…And the Rockbell girl."

They'd heard it time and again, growing up: "There go the Elric brothers and the Rockbell girl." Edward had never realized the speculations that bloomed in their passing; would've argued about it, had he known. Alphonse probably would have blushed and Winry, Winry would've said with that casual, calm voice, "Oh, I couldn't marry either of them. They're too short."

X X X

This ficlet was written for M. Jules, who, when I told her that I'd seen an eBay ad for a bunch of FMA stuff with Winry listed as "...and the Rockbell girl," insisted I write her a story.


	11. Chapter 11

When they were kids, they fought over who got to marry Winry. She turned them both down, something that Alphonse remembers but Edward does not. He wonders if Edward just didn't find that important enough to keep that in his memory or maybe that his brother thought it was a childish thing to fight over anyway, even if Winry was their best friend and a girl and really, one of them ought to marry her when they got old enough to do that. Alphonse wasn't fool enough to think that he wouldn't have a fight on his hands; in his own way, Edward really did care about Winry, maybe almost in the same stubborn way he cared about breathing – it was just something he did. And Winry, well, Alphonse hasn't missed the little looks she gives his brother when Edward doesn't notice – and sometimes when Edward does but Alphonse figures his brother is simply the most oblivious boy in the world.

And when Alphonse watches Winry braid his brother's dyed black hair, he knows that while he won the fights over who got to marry Winry, he lost the war.


	12. Chapter 12

Winry doesn't do anything special around Ed's and Al's birthdays. After the brothers tried to bring their mother back to life, the idea of birthdays kind of paled. And the day that Edward disappeared, no one was for sure what day that was, really, even though Winry thought maybe Al should have a second birthday as a celebration for getting his body back. She never really spoke to him about it, though, and the idea was lost. When the brothers both left that final time, when she realized they'd never be coming home (_returning to her_) again, she'd gone sort of blank for a few days afterwards and couldn't remember exactly when that was (and didn't particularly feel like asking Sciezca, though the other woman surely would've known).

But on the third of every October, Winry can't help herself, and blinks a lantern into the night, calling her brothers home.

_Don't forget. _

X X X

A.N.: Written for October 3rd, 2007, and posted that date on my Live Journal account, fyi.


	13. Chapter 13

A.N.: Dialogue taken from chapter 48.

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Winry's hands clench in the fabric of his jacket, the crown of her head hitting his collarbone as she wails. Ed wants to pull her close, to give her the comfort she deserves, that she needs right now, but the best he can do is squeeze her elbow. He can't indulge in a hug, not at this second, not while Al is still fighting Scar. Not now, when they're trying to lure out the homunculi. Ed presses his cheek against her head for an instant before gently pushing her back. Winry needs him, he knows, and it feels like his very being is being shredded to leave her. But, "Winry, Al's still fighting," he whispers to her, and pulls off his jacket, draping it around her shoulders. "I've gotta go. Sorry." He doesn't look back as he runs after Scar and Al, knowing if he did, he wouldn't be able to leave. Ed just hopes Winry understands and a sudden, iron clad resolve builds inside him.

He never wants to see her cry again.


	14. Chapter 14

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The telegram was simple and succinct, two words and a name, and enough to make Edward Elric stop in his tracks, halfway across India, and go back the way he'd came. It took him nearly a month to get back to the United States, thanks to the transport system of trains and boats and automobiles, and finally, he stood in front of a brick house, ivy climbing the walls, a taxi driving away. Gathering up his suitcase, Edward strode up the walk, climbed the steps and rapped on the door, the automail making the wood boom.

It didn't take long for someone to come to the door and Alphonse appeared in the frame of wood like an assistant in a magician's trick, a bigger smile wreathing his face than Edward could ever remember seeing. His brother swept him into a tight hug, pounding his back, the words, "Welcome home!" bubbling over in greeting.

"Al, Al, you're choking me!" Edward managed to wriggle out of his brother's hug though his grin belied the words he used. He glanced beyond the foyer of the house then back at Al. "So?"

"Come in," Al grabbed his arm, hauling Edward into the house, closing the door behind them. He babbled the entire time he led Edward up the stairs, down the hall and to a brightly painted room, one holding a pretty young woman who in turn, held a bundle of blankets. "Janet, honey," Al said, his voice lowering but still excited, "look who's here."

Janet smiled a welcome at Edward, her own words carrying a crooning tone to them. "And she's awake, too, so she can meet her Uncle Edward." Rising to her feet, Janet seemed to waltz across the floor, the autumn sunlight stroking her form from behind, limning it and making her appear luminous. For a second, Edward had to blink his eyes, remembering another time, another woman, another baby; then the scene resolved itself again and Alphonse stood with an arm around his wife, beaming that proud, beautiful smile.

Janet lifted their daughter, peeling back a little bit of blanket to show Edward a round face and pudgy, waving hands. "Look, Winry, it's your Uncle Edward."

He couldn't help the look that he gave Alphonse, but he schooled it away before the proud parents noticed. Edward made the appropriate noises about how beautiful she was, when he really thought she looked somewhat doughy and unfinished, and managed to escape to his room soon after, feigning (but not really) exhaustion.

It was well after midnight when Edward woke, bleary eyes blinking, flesh hand massaging them lightly and wiping away sleep. He could hear the soft sound of a baby crying and shook his head, chasing the last of the dreams from his brain. Getting out of bed, he rumpled his hair, tugged at his vest and shirt, and wandered out into the hall to see Alphonse pacing the length of it, making shushing sounds and bouncing his daughter in his arms.

Al paused to give Edward a wry smile. "Sorry we woke you up."

Edward waved off the apology, thinking the baby sounded more like an upset kitten than anything. "How often does this happen?" he asked around a yawn.

"She's usually a good baby." Al jiggled her, nuzzling her fine, dark hair. "Aren't you, precious?" He rolled his eyes to Edward. "I'm sure you don't believe me."

Unable to help himself, Edward mumbled, "Not if she takes after her namesake," only to get a grunt of irritation from his brother.

Winry quieted down with a little hiccupping sound and, even in the dim light, Edward could see her eyes glinting at him. As if Alphonse realized it at the same time, he said, "You should hold her," and before Edward could protest that thought, he had an armful of baby. "There, now," Alphonse sounded wickedly satisfied, "support her head, yes, like that, and you're doing it, Brother!"

Edward rolled his eyes in irritation. "You just want her to spit up on me, I know," and didn't bother hiding his disgust when Al giggled and nodded. Winry made a little sound and Edward turned his attention to her, alarmed. She made it again, one chubby hand waving up to strike his chin.

Edward swallowed hard, blinking and Alphonse, all too attuned to his brother's moods, asked gently, "What is it, Brother?"

"I just wonder," he whispered, searching the baby's face for an answer he knew he'd never get, "if she'd name her sons after us."

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A.N. - just for the record, I really prefer the mangaverse. Oh, but the possibilities for angst in the animeverse... 


	15. Chapter 15

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They return to her, like hawks to a falconer, a pair of golden eyed boys fast approaching manhood. It doesn't matter where Winry is, Rush Valley, Rezembool, Central City – they find her and reinsert themselves into her life (as if they'd ever left it) with squawking and ruffled feathers that only she can smooth.

It's never hard to welcome them home (home for them, Winry realized some time ago, is each other – but also, always, her). And if she finds it ironic that now, she is the center that anchors their circlings around Amestris, Winry keeps that to herself.

It is enough, after all, that Al falls asleep on her shoulder while they listen to a radio program and that Ed snugs in close, holding her through the night.

It is enough, and Winry Rockbell is content.

* * *

A.N. - Rereading this, I think, hmm, this actually does sound like a threesome. grin 


	16. Chapter 16

He's horrified and with the things he's seen, the things he's _done_, he's almost surprised he can feel it. The monster's claws slice through his cheek and his blood starts to spill (again) and he can only be thankful that this time, she isn't here to see it. His throat bobs and he swallows down his fear, knowing it has no place here, not now (not fucking now) any more than thoughts of her, or his little brother, or anything other than getting up, getting the fuck back up and surviving this fight, just like he'd survived all the others.

* * *

Ed-centric, obviously, written for an LJ challenge where you had to write a drabble based on your default icon. Mine was a decidedly creepy one that pulses from a black square to a circle of blood red and an obviously wounded, frightened Ed to the right of the circle. 


	17. Chapter 17

Winry's eyes were the color of the sky, the rich blue that you saw in the winter, when you looked to the east on a clear twilight evening, the sun was going down and it was before the stars came out. It was one thing to know it and another entirely to say it, though, so if asked, Edward would say, "She's got blue eyes," and roll his shoulders in a shrug, as if wondering why someone would want to know.

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	18. Chapter 18

(Spoilers for chapter 71)

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Heat scorched the plates of his automail, making Ed wish (even though he didn't believe in wishes) that there was some way of cooling the metal. He'd thought, with all the automailers and their patients in Rush Valley, someone would've come up with something better than staying out of the sun, soaking in cool water or wrapping wet cloth around the automail, only to find out that had never been a priority: new and better weapons fitted into the prosthetics were what everyone else seemed to want. He'd whined at Winry, hoping she'd take the hint, and it was obvious that she was at least considering it – Ed had seen the diagrams and the plans and the notebook full of questions and answers and additional diagrams the last time he and Al had been in Rush Valley. 

Now, with Kimbley standing next to him as he explained to Winry that she was a hostage to make sure that he and Alphonse complied with the military's desires, Ed almost wished for some of that heat back.

* * *


	19. Chapter 19

Riza Hawkeye is surprised to see the young woman and wonders why she is. After all, Central City was named that for a reason; it is, indeed, the capital and center of Amestris. But the sight of Winry Rockbell standing in front of a window, peering inside, is somewhat startling. She speaks; and Winry turns, her blond hair that Riza had long ago admired now a fringe around her shoulders; a pair of glasses perched on her nose; but her eyes are still that amazing shade of blue that warms when she realizes who had hailed her.

"Miss Hawkeye," she says, and offers a hand that Riza takes in both her own. "It's good to see you." There is no hesitation in that voice and Riza is pleased to note it. The last time she'd seen Winry had been some time previous, and it had not been under the best of circumstances.

They exchange pleasantries, and Riza notes during the conversation that Winry wears a ring on her left hand. She comments that she'd heard of a marriage through the military grapevine – the mechanic of the Fullmetal Alchemist was someone the military kept tabs on, after all – but nothing more.

"He's a good man," Winry says with a hint of pride in her voice. "Simple, but good." And somehow, Riza reads between the lines, understanding the meaning, that while this man Winry had married wasn't likely to run off to save the world, he meant everything to her, the same way a pair of brothers once had. Winry fumbles in her purse, pulling out a wallet to show Riza a photograph of herself with this man, a tall fellow with curly dark hair and merry blue eyes, and another, of the same man, holding a little girl with her father's features.

"I didn't know," Riza said, "she's beautiful. What's her name?"

"Isabelle." Winry smiles fondly, "but Granny calls her 'Becca' and that's what stuck." She replaces the photos in her handbag. "What about you? Any husband or children?"

Riza shakes her head slightly. "No to either. I'm afraid I never actually moved beyond my first love," and she can't believe she said those words out loud, to this young woman, but something tells her that if anyone would understand, it would be Winry.

And it seems she does, with a far off, wistful gaze that seems so at home on Winry's face, Riza can't help but guess Winry's husband knows that expression intimately. But she touches Riza's shoulders, clasping them in her strong hands, saying, "You have to keep moving forward. It may feel like you're going to die inside but you can't stop living your life." Her smile is warm with both memories and hope and Riza wonders if Winry's speaking to her or reminding herself, "You have to live your life so he'd be proud of you."

And Riza closes her eyes, pulling the young woman into a hug to whisper in her ear, "Edward would be."

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More anime-verse, post That Movie. 


	20. Chapter 20

(Spoilers for chapter 77)

X

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X

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Ed felt the warmth of a body curled around him, the weight of a head against his shoulder and turned toward it muzzily. The scent wasn't what he expected; the slightly sour smell of a little boy, but instead, a sweeter scent, overlaid with grit and fear and Ed took a deep breath of it, frowning slightly, murmuring, "Al?"

"Shh, Brother," Al's voice came from somewhere else, "don't wake Winry."

He pried open his sticky eyes, blinking, trying to resolve the fuzzy blobs into anything. Big grey blob – Al. Smaller dawn-yellow blob on his shoulder – Winry. Edward blinked again, shivering. Damn, it was freezing. He suddenly felt relief that Winry was pressed against him, realizing how cold he'd be without her body heat supplementing his own. The memory of the last time he'd seen her, being carried away by Scar filtered into his scattered thoughts and Edward started all the way awake, shooting a glance at Alphonse before turning his gaze back to Winry, unable to see anything except the crown of her head. "Is she…" he got out, nearly choking. "Is she okay, Al?"

"Yeah." Alphonse moved closer, the scrape of metal on metal somehow muted. "She's in better shape than we are, Brother." There was a hint of a wry smile in his voice as he spoke. "Do you remember what happened?"

Swallowing, Edward wished he had something to drink. He felt parched. Beside him, Winry murmured and shifted and Edward realized that weight on top of his knees was her leg, cocked over them. "I," he stalled, casting back in his memories. With a curse, his left hand probed his side, finding nothing more than skin and the rising flesh of a scar to remind him of what happened. "I fell. I was hurt."

"Dr. Marcoh and Mei saved you, Brother," Alphonse said quietly and Edward knew he could hear the worry in Al's voice now. "Dr. Marcoh said," his voice failed for a second then started up again, sounding far away, "you could've died."

"Al." Edward's face twisted and he looked away, into Winry's hair, as if he might find some sort of answer in the winding strands. Finally going for truthful, he returned his gaze to his brother. "I didn't, did I? I'm okay."

Letting out a shuddering sigh, heavy enough to make the platemail rattle, Alphonse nodded. "Yeah. We're okay." He stepped away, nearly out of distance of Edward's hazy eyesight, returning with a blanket he draped over them both. After tucking it in, Al touched Ed's hair, ruffling it gently. "Go back to sleep, Brother. I'll watch over you 'til you wake up."

Edward considered arguing but the tremendous yawn that cracked his jaws answered for him. "'kay, Al," he mumbled, shifting his position a little, burying his nose in Winry's hair. He drifted off, dreaming of sunlight and children's laughter and never feeling cold again.


	21. Chapter 21

He walked into the house, the joyous shout dying on his lips. For some reason, the interior, once so warm, seemed very cold. Alphonse wrapped his arms around himself, walking slowly down the hall, peering into each room as he came to it. The kitchen was empty; as was the living room. "Hello?" he called, shivering. "Granny Pinako? Winry? Is anyone home?"

Alphonse went out the back door, standing for a few seconds on the stoop before stepping down onto the lush green grass. He could just make her out, standing near the oak tree at the end of the property. "Winry!" he shouted, running toward her, joy wreathing his face. It'd been so long, too long, and he couldn't wait to see her. "Winry, I'm back! I'm home!"

She turned slowly, her hair sweeping over her shoulders and Al faltered, coming to a stop. "Winry?" Her expression was cold, bitter, and the way she clasped her elbows in either hand and stood so stiff, Alphonse knew she wouldn't be opening her arms to give him a welcoming hug.

"Why are you here?" Winry stared at him, her eyes reminding him of a lake long frozen over.

"I-I came home," Alphonse whispered, holding out his hands to her, dropping them when she made no move to take them in her own. "You don't know, Winry, how much I missed you. How much Brother missed you." He glanced behind him, back at the house, beyond it, to the road. "He'll be here soon, I promise, and you'll see."

Winry turned her face away, leaving Alphonse with a vision of her profile, like something chiseled out of ice. "You made promises to me before and broke them, Al. Why should I believe you now?"

"I never," Alphonse stammered, taking a step closer. "Winry, please. We've come home!"

"No you haven't!" The shout made him back up in surprise. Winry looked back at him, her eyes so cold with fury, he thought he'd get frostbite. "You don't come home. You never come home. You Elrics never keep your promises!"

Alphonse jerked awake, Winry's voice still ringing in his ears. He sat up in the bed, clutching at his chest, his heart pounding beneath his hands. "Damn it," he whispered into the darkened room, knowing he wouldn't be getting back to sleep tonight. He crawled out of his bed, making his way to the kitchen and the bottle of whiskey that hid under the sink. Alphonse had the feeling he'd need it.

* * *

I really, really, really hate that Bones made Alphonse break his promise to Winry about bringing Ed back home so they could be a trio again. 


	22. Chapter 22

It comes every month – a stipend from the military headquarters in Central City. The first time she received the cheque, she called, saying there must have been some sort of mistake only to be told, "No, there isn't." She'd been set up to receive Edward's military pension, 'should the worst happen,' and though Winry insisted loudly that she didn't need – or want – it, the cheque arrived regularly by the eighth day of each month.

Winry knows it's not a sick joke – the people who knew she knew Edward would never be that cruel – though the arrival of the envelope always seems like a slap in her face, almost as if someone was getting a colossal laugh at her expense.

Granny tried to talk to her once, to explain that Ed had probably set it up for her – his clumsy way of trying to take care of her when he should've known damn well she could take care of herself. Winry has an automail business, a thriving one at that, and not because the Fullmetal Alchemist had once been her customer. No, it is because she is a Rockbell, a fourth generation mechanic, because she is respected in her own right – that is the reason.

Edward, Winry knows, isn't dead. She is sure there are people she could go to in the military who would agree with her but that he is missing in action (again) might not be enough to stop the money from coming. She wishes it would, oh, Winry hates the arrival of that stipend every month; loathes it in a way she has never felt before. The sight of the envelope leaves ashes in her mouth and makes everything seem that much more bleak when it arrives.

But each month, she takes the envelope and places it unopened (all unopened, except for the first) in a little metal box under her bed. Granny thinks she's saving the money as a windfall. Winry has another reason:

When – always _when_ – the brothers come home, they would need it more than she would.

* * *

I know, I know, more fic post That Movie. (Rolls eyes) 


	23. Chapter 23

* * *

"Are you going to dance?" Winry leaned over, tilting her head so she could meet Ed's eyes.

Waving a hand in the air, Ed wrinkled his nose.

"Al," Winry didn't straighten but did turn her head to nod at the makeshift dance floor in the Nedobeck's barn, "is dancing."

Ed grumbled, "One of those flirt dances. Like he needs to be doing that!" He watched as the partners on the floor switched again, giving each person a chance to dance with someone else and, if old lady Pinako's cackling was any indication, a great way for young men and women to meet. Ed refused to think about the other things the old hag had said the dances were used for. His little brother wasn't that crass.

"He is popular."

Ed narrowed his eyes up at Winry, wondering if she was laughing at him. From the tone in her voice, he'd bet she was. Al, Ed noted almost sourly, didn't need an excuse to flirt. He'd been doing it almost as soon as he'd gotten his body back, with any handy female –that bean girl; Hawkeye (Ed forgave him that one, Hawkeye was a real cherry); Winry. "Hmph."

"You could be popular, if you just got out there and danced." Winry grinned and her bright expression made Ed feel sour. He didn't know why, just that edgy feeling in the pit of his stomach seemed more pronounced tonight.

"Winry," he all but whined at her.

"It's true, Ed." Winry's smile didn't dim as she reached over to ruffle his hair. "But if you want to stay here and be a wallflower, far be it from me to stop you." With that, she straightened and flounced off to the dance floor.

Muttering under his breath about dancing and girls and flirting, Ed didn't fail to notice that Al promptly disengaged from whatever girl was hanging on him to offer a dance to Winry. Good for her. Good for them both. Ed folded his arms, the corners of his mouth turned down, the physical representation of a sulk.

The music started up again and Ed slumped a little more in his chair, scowling at the moving figures. Al and Winry looked good together, he had to admit, but then Al swirled Winry around and passed her off to another guy, that, what was his name? Jared? Jake? Whatever the hell his name was, he was whispering in Winry's ear, making her blush and duck her head.

"Careful, pipsqueak. You destroy that 'mail and Winry'll have your hide as a rug." Pinako's calm voice almost startled Ed out of his dark thoughts. He shot her a nasty glare, showing teeth.

"Winry's better than you, old woman. Her work's the best. It can handle it."

"Uh huh. You keep making fists loud enough that I can hear the metal squeaking from halfway across the room, you'll wreck something." Her smile beatific, Pinako smacked him on the head with the bowl of her pipe. "If my granddaughter dancing with someone else makes you that angry, don't just sit here, do something."

"I'm not angry," Ed growled through clenched teeth. "Winry can dance with anyone she wants to."

"Well, then, I'll leave you to your sulking." Pinako trundled past him, calling over her shoulder, "but you could always ask the musicians to play something else where dancers don't change partners."

Ed considered it as Pinako disappeared out of the open doorway. Eyes lighting up with unholy glee, he got out of his chair and started toward the musicians, determination in his stride. Winry didn't need any more flirt dances and Ed planned on showing the young men of Rezembool just that fact.

* * *

Written for Ishte as a Yule prezzie...and also as my contribution to the winter contest at the Ed/Winry community at LJ. 


	24. Chapter 24

Speculative future fic for the manga. Yay, manga!

* * *

Al knew they were going to be in for it. All the things Winry ordered that they not do, they were doing again – showing up unannounced, with Ed's automail trashed, in the middle of the night. Not to mention, Brother was feverish and in pain, and had insisted on the long train ride to Rush Valley before going to Central City to make his report. Once they arrived at the Rush Valley station, Al had cadged a man with a horse cart to haul them to Winry's place. It wasn't like he could carry his brother anymore and Ed was in no shape to walk. Hell, he was barely conscious; shivering and sweating, lines etched deep in the face he pressed into Al's shoulder. Little whines escaped him when the automail crackled in feedback and he'd clutch at his shoulder in misery.

"Almost there, Brother." Al kept his own arm around Ed's shoulders, rubbing the sweat off his face with his own sleeve. He'd tried to take the automail off only to find out that the bolt that kept it in place had been sheared off in the fight. Alchemy might've worked but Ed nixed that idea – bad enough he'd be in trouble with Winry, he wasn't going to compound it by any attempts to transmute her artistry. "So you'd rather be in agony?" Alphonse had asked, glaring at his brother until Ed had nodded sheepishly. Now, Al wished he'd forced his brother to listen to reason.

"…ngg…good," Ed mumbled, digging his head into Al's shoulder. He shivered again and Al pulled him a little closer.

"Not much longer," he said, shooting a glance down the road. He could just make out the sign over the shop and felt a relief akin to a taut wire being cut inside his body.

The man with the cart was kind enough to help haul Edward up to the door of the shop, holding him upright while Al pounded on the door. Ed mumbled, "Where's Winry?" in between the knocks. He tottered up beside Al, slamming his palm against the door. "Winry?"

"She'll be here, Ed," Al said, looping an arm around his brother's waist. He despaired of the door ever opening when finally, a light flashed on inside the building. Al could just hear someone walking up to the door. The clicking sounds of someone unbolting the locks could be heard and the door swung open. "Hey," Alphonse said, smiling in relief at the sight of Winry's face.

"What are you doing here? Do you have any idea what time it is?" Winry glared at them. "Did you break something again, Ed?"

"Uh, huh." Ed grabbed for his shoulder, his face twisting.

Winry's expression changed abruptly, like snow melting in a spring run off, and she reached out for Ed. He sagged into her arms, his head dropping to her shoulder and Winry grunted a little under his weight. "What happened?" she barked the question at Al, who winced in automatic reaction.

"Got inna fight," Ed mumbled as Winry maneuvered him inside the building, "trashed my arm. Sorry."

After waving his thanks at the horse cart driver, Alphonse followed them inside, closing the door behind him. "I wanted to take his arm off, Winry, but Brother's too stubborn."

Winry clicked her tongue in annoyance, helping Ed out of his jacket. Sitting him down, she ran her hand over Ed's shoulder, her brow furrowing as she realized what was wrong. "You can't get it off." Edward grunted, his shoulders hunching up. Winry caught a look at his face. "And the wiring's damaged, dammit, Al, he's in a lot of pain." Winry darted out of the room, fury fairly crackling in her wake.

"I'm in trouble," Ed whined, slumping in his chair, appearing smaller than he really was.

"Don't worry, Brother. Winry will fix it." Alphonse knew it to be true; that Winry would take care of Ed's problems; take care of his brother, take care of him. Al didn't necessarily believe in gods or luck but someone, he thought, definitely knew that he and Ed would need Winry in their lives.

* * *

A lot of people have told me that this chapter is sad. Hmmm...


	25. Chapter 25

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Luck was not something Edward Elric believed in, not it nor fate nor destiny. Those words, he thought, had nothing to do with him. If he even considered that his life was preordained in any way, it would lead to a bleak despair that he might never be able to crawl out of. And Ed prided himself on not being the type of person who gave in to despair. He was a scientist; there were no odds or angles, things worked simply because they did; there was an equation and a law to back him up on everything.

Rolling dice? Blowing on them had no effect. The real trick was the weighting of the die. Cards? A skilled dealer could manipulate them. It was up to the person holding the hand to play it properly. Flipping a coin? Any number of variables could explain how it would land, either face or tail up. People? They came into your life one way or another; it wasn't luck or fortune. Just something that happened.

It was, Edward thought, his own stubbornness that started Alphonse and him out on their journey. Had they not been so sure they could bring their mother back to life, especially him, he knew, taking that blame squarely on his shoulders, their lives would have been extraordinarily different. Destiny had nothing to do with that, any more than luck had to do with him passing the State Alchemists' exam at the age of twelve. He was smart, considered a genius, but Ed gave credit where credit was due, at least under his breath. Had he and Al not attempted human transmutation, Ed thought that neither of them would be quite the alchemists they were. Granted, they were clever before they tried to bring their mother back to life, but without the knowledge the Gate passed on, without what Truth itself offered, Ed had the feeling that they would've been considered prodigies but not true geniuses. (He tried not to consider what traits the bastard's bloodline might've given them. Bad enough he had to claim relationship to Von Hohenheim.) They continued on their journey after losing so much because it was what they had to do (Ed also didn't want to consider that the other bastard, Mustang, had something to do with galvanizing him into action); it was the path that led to Al and him getting their bodies back.

Neither he nor Al had expected it would take so damned long to do what they'd promised each other they would so many years ago. Ed liked to think that he'd grown a lot along the way (not just in height, either, though that was really important) but he realized that there were still things he needed to learn; there were still quests for knowledge he wanted to go on. He was, after all, still a scientist, and there were still plenty of mysteries to be solved.

Ed told himself it wasn't fate or anything of that nature that led him to the place he was at now; destiny didn't lend a hand. It was all cause and effect, not luck of the draw, no more fatalistic than neighbor children growing up together and falling in love. He looked down at the young woman in his arms, the mystery that kept him coming back, again and again, giving Winry a little squeeze.

Lifting her head from its resting place on his shoulder, Winry gave him a smile. "I was just thinking how lucky I am," she murmured, reaching up to kiss him sweetly.

Ed couldn't help but lie as he said, "Me, too."

* * *


	26. Chapter 26

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The wedding reception was everything Alphonse thought it would be, happy people toasting the bride and groom; more food and champagne than the crowd could easily consume; dancing, oh the dancing, with the bride swirling around in a dress gorgeous enough to rival the stars. He had to close his eyes against the visions threatening to overwhelm him. The bride looked simply gorgeous, her groom amazingly dapper.

The time came for the final farewells; where the bride would throw her bouquet to the unmarried women and the groom fling the bride's garter out to the unmarried men. Riza stood on the steps of the building, her back turned toward the women, though when she flung the flowers, it seemed they went unerringly to Winry's hands. The women congratulated her, patting her shoulders and giving her kisses on the cheek while Winry blushed, staring at the flowers in disbelief.

Roy removed Riza's garter with a smooth, practiced motion, amidst various catcalls that had Riza threatening that pistols could so be part of a woman's wedding attire. With a sly grin, Roy gathered the single men together, turned his back and shot the garter into the air.

It hit Edward on the head and bounced off onto Al's arm. He blushed even brighter than Winry had, the little scrap of elastic, lace and ribbons seeming to weigh very heavy in his hand. The catcalls grew louder and Alphonse turned to his brother, about to shove the garter at Edward when Ed grabbed his shoulders, spinning him around to face Winry.

"Go on, put the garter on her," Edward muttered, that scary smile on his face. "Just remember, it's the last time you're touching my girl's leg."

* * *

When I originally started this ficlet, I had the idea that Havoc caught the garter and both Elrics were displeased. After further thought, I decided it was funnier to have Al catch it. Poor Al. He's not quite forgiven me. (Snicker)


	27. Chapter 27

(Written for nettasloan; - Inspired by chapter 43, "River of Mud".)

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It hurts him. Anyone can see it and Pinako, though she often rides Ed harder than necessary, knows that he's almost reached his breaking point. But he keeps going on; despite his stomach spilling itself on the ground; despite the pain the weather causes him; despite the sorrow and anguish swirled together in his eyes. He's a tough kid, Pinako thinks, and turns her attention back to the muddy earth beneath her feet. She just hopes they find what he's looking for.

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	28. Chapter 28

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Winry has kept the room dark, knowing where everything is by touch, anyway. A lantern, the flame turned low, is plenty of light for her, good enough for her to see that Ed's still struggling, still feverish. She mopped his face with a cloth and, as if in answer to an unspoken wish, the door opens with a faint squeal, allowing a sliver of light and Alphonse through. He carries a bowl of water; fresh and cool, and brings it to Winry.

"Thought you might want it," Al murmurs, holding it while Winry dunks her cloth in the basin and wrings it out.

"Yes, Al, thanks," she whispers back, smoothing the cooler cloth over Ed's sweat-dampened skin.

Alphonse sets the basin on the chair beside her, the one she'd given up on to sit on the bed. Easier to reach Ed this way, easier to take care of him this way. Ed pants softly, his chest rising and falling under the blankets. His fingers move fitfully and he whines, "Hot," in a tiny voice.

Winry hands Alphonse the cloth and moves to the foot of the bed, reaching under the blankets to pull Ed's flesh foot out from under the covers. She untucks the sheets, laying Ed's foot in the open, and pushes the leg of his pajamas up to let a little more cool air circulate on Ed's skin. By the time she's finished, Ed's not quite so tense, a little sigh of relief escaping him. His eyes crack open, dulled by fever, and Winry can't help her smile. His hand reaches up and she catches it, holding the slick metal in her fingers. He sighs again, gaze drifting to Alphonse, and grins faintly. "Thanks, guys," Ed mumbles, his eyes closing again, "for always takin' care of me."

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	29. Chapter 29

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Winry blinked herself awake, the sway and clatter reminding her that she was once again on a train, this time, bound for home. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she smiled softly at the sight that greeted her; Alphonse, his head pillowed on Ed's left thigh, Ed's red jacket thrown across his body; Edward, sleeping, his mouth open and eyes closed, hand resting lightly on Al's shoulder. Winry could make out the faint lines of their long eyelashes, silently envying them that largess.

Edward's head bobbed a few seconds later, his forehead rapping against the wall and he grunted, starting awake. "Wha's so funny?" he murmured, rubbing his temple, glaring at Winry as she covered her mouth, trying to stifle her giggles. She shook her head, unable to actually explain, making Ed huff in annoyance. Al squirmed, rolling onto his back, making Ed look down. His expression softening, Ed's flesh hand rose, smoothing back Alphonse's bangs. Al squinched up his face, batting at the disturbance. A faint smile curled the corners of Ed's mouth as he moved his hand, resting it instead on Al's chest. Winry could see the awe in Edward's face, the way his eyes lit up and his joy seemed too much to be contained. "C'mere," he whispered excitedly and Winry slipped off her seat, kneeling next to Ed's feet, letting him guide her hand to rest above Alphonse's beating heart.

Ed's smile was brilliant; open and warm and everything that Winry had wanted to see for so long. He curled his body to lean his ear next to Winry's hand, his breath catching in his throat, eyes tightly closed and Winry couldn't help but touch him, too, tilting forward just a little to press her lips against his forehead.

It seemed for an instant that everything stopped; that the world held its breath and then Winry swayed back with the movement of the train, away from the brothers. Edward's eyes opened as she moved, rich and luminous and finally free of secrets. His hand reached to cover hers on Al's chest and Ed shifted just a little bit, so his cheek rested on their hands. Winry leaned forward again, her forehead bumping lightly against Ed's, reading everything he'd always wanted her to know in his face.

Later, maybe, they'd say the words. For now, this was everything they needed.

* * *


	30. Chapter 30

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"You have to let them go," Granny said, more times than Winry wanted to think about. And, if truth be told, she had. It just seemed like they wouldn't let _her_ go. She heard their voices in the laughter of children at play, wherever she went. She saw their smiles reflected in the grins of people she passed on the street. The sight of a red jacket, a long braid or a pony tail always made her pause and, of course, her chosen profession meant she was haunted with right arms and left legs made of automail.

A dropped screw reminded her of a missing one; a bruise, a cut, a scar, a bandage, all reminded her of battles fought without her knowledge. Someone reading a book reminded her of secrets kept until it was too late.

But returning to Rezembool, that was like coming home to their ghosts. Winry couldn't turn without seeing the brothers – their child selves running through the countryside; their older selves walking along the road or standing at the train station; Alphonse charming all the slinky barnyard cats into purring, affectionate pets; Edward sprawled across the couch, his shirt rucked up over his stomach as he snored.

And, Winry thought, if the Elrics wanted to haunt her, she wouldn't be the one to chase them away.

* * *

Mooooore movieverse. Can I say how thrilled I am to hear that Bones is going to do a new version of FMA? And it's supposed to follow the manga? Moaaar Winry? LING? squees like the fangirl I am


	31. Chapter 31

* * *

Between the three of them, there was a great deal of trust. They were similar in many ways, after all; orphans, intelligent beyond their years. (Alphonse dared not say 'wise', due to the temperaments of his brother and their best friend.) To say that Edward trusted Winry was true. After all, she knew things about Edward that Alphonse didn't – and that was saying something, considering how close the brothers were. But Alphonse was the one who knew one of Edward's greatest secrets – that he sometimes called out to Winry at night – and Al wasn't going to share that with anyone.

At least, not until someone met his price.

* * *

Happy October Third!


	32. Chapter 32

Written as a challenge ficlet for Marlex, who asked for "Winry" and "The End."

* * *

Everything has an ending, Winry Rockbell knows, every story, every song, every life. She was not a girl who prayed but still and even more, too practical for dreams and fantasies, but she does have hopes and wants a happy ending for her friends. When the battle is over; when things are starting to return to normal; that's when the call comes - Edward's brash, brassy voice quiet and gentle as he turns the telephone over to another. And, hearing Alphonse on the line, Winry cries for their happy ending.

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	33. Chapter 33

Much thanks to D. M. Evans for the commentary on this chapter.

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Possible future!fic, Manga-verse, speculations.

* * *

"Trisha!"

"Sara!"

The argument had been going on for, well, Alphonse could almost count the days (two weeks and four days, going on seven hours and forty-six minutes). Since the two participants were both strong willed individuals, neither one wanted to back down. Neither one wanted to say the other was right. Neither one was going to look at the other's position.

They'd come to an agreement quickly enough if Winry's stomach bump turned out to be a boy – Urey Alphonse – but if a little girl was born, well. Pinako thought at this point that the baby would probably answer to both, because no decision had been made. "Probably better be born a boy," was her dour pronouncement then she looked at Al through narrowed eyes. "Of course, you Elric boys are a lot of trouble."

Alphonse gave off a nervous laugh, scrubbing at the back of his head. He gathered up his courage and interrupted the squabble with a caution born not just from surviving a war but being in other hostile situations. It was, after all, his job to be the peacemaker between his brother and Winry; it always had been, no matter how scary the argument. Pinako patted him on the back, reminding him it was for the good of the baby – not to mention their neighbors, who got an earful every time Edward and Winry got going.

When he interrupted them, they were standing nose to nose, Winry with her hands on her hips, Edward with his arms folded. "Hey, um," Alphonse showed a lot of teeth in a wary smile, "you know, I've got an idea if you want to hear it."

They both turned to him and Alphonse remembered exactly how he'd felt when Teacher had given him and Edward that Look. He very nearly withdrew from the battlefield right then and there but Winry blew out a puff of air in a sigh and Edward's shoulders relaxed. "All right, Al, what's your idea?"

"Well, I thought that maybe you should name her 'Ellen' if she's a little girl." Alphonse waved a hand at Winry's stomach, gearing up to run. Since finding out she was pregnant, Winry's temper was even less predictable and she threw tools at nearly anyone.

"Ellen." Winry tasted the name, considering.

"Ellen." Edward fingered his chin thoughtfully.

They both looked at each other, those matching frowns starting to lift and Alphonse let out a relieved sigh.

"Ellen," Winry repeated, the corners of her mouth turning up.

"Ellen." Edward's fighting stance softened and his broad hand covered Winry's stomach. "Ellen Elric."

Alphonse could actually see it happening. Both of them twitched at the same time, Winry's eyes widening and Edward's mouth tightening. Alphonse started backing away, his palms raised in front of him. "It was just an idea!" he squeaked, thinking it looked like lightning struck the pair as they turned toward him. He turned tail and ran, not waiting for the explosion.

After all, survival was the better part of valor.

* * *


	34. Chapter 34

More future!fic for That Movie. (Can I say I will be soooo very disappointed if Bones doesn't follow the manga this time? SO disappointed.)

* * *

The world they lived in had diminished in the time since they'd first arrived, Alphonse thought, what with intercontinental flights, bullet trains and news that could be broadcast from almost anywhere. Gone were the telegrams his brother had sent him from the far corners of the earth, little succinct messages, still written in the code they'd designed together when they were kids. Now, when Edward wanted Alphonse to know something, he rang him up on the telephone from anywhere in the world.

Alphonse understood his brother's wanderlust; why it would never quite be slaked. He didn't envy Edward his travels that took him away, though Ed had at least come to some sort of peace with himself, somewhere during his solitary trips. Alphonse's family teased 'Uncle Edward' that he needed to settle down and at least consider a family but he'd always show his teeth and wave his hands at Alphonse's brood, saying that there were plenty of Elrics in this world now and he certainly didn't need to stir up a hornet's nest making more.

It took many years, and a considerable amount of very good brandy – who knew that Edward was such an accomplished drinker? – before Alphonse found out for sure what he'd always suspected; namely that his brother's fear of being like their father had been exacerbated by the way they'd left Winry behind in Amestris. Edward allowed in that one conversation that he still missed her, even after more than a decade in this world, and he was afraid if he found another girl, he would wind up treating her the same way.

"But you were just a boy then," Alphonse had protested, even as he thought, finally, his brother was actually confessing to having feelings for their childhood friend. "You've grown up, Brother; you've matured. You're not going to fall in love and just leave a woman behind now."

The soft chuckle and headshake told Alphonse that Edward didn't believe that. "Look at me, Al. I can't stop moving. I don't stay in one place, not even with you, for very long. What wife would want that?" He cupped his chin in his right hand, drawing a doodle with the forefinger of his left. Without looking closely, Alphonse recognized the makings of a transmutation circle and would bet that, even as many years away from alchemy as Edward was, if there was a way to make it work here in this world, the transmutation would be perfect. "Besides," and here his smile became self-mocking, "I can't help myself, Al." Edward raised his head, the warmth in his eyes bittersweet and distant. "I look for her, wherever I go."

"Ed." Alphonse's voice was hushed, a faint whisper of a sound, as stark and sad as he thought his brother's life must be.

Edward waved him off. "Don't get maudlin on me, little brother. I'm content, sharing in your family." He adroitly turned the conversation to something else and Alphonse let him, knowing that there really was nothing more he could say.

* * *

A.N.: I have this idea for a _3Some_ story that's been lingering in my head for some time and thought this was going to be the telling of it. It wasn't. Maybe one of these days I can get that story together and post it.


	35. Chapter 35

* * *

Manga!Verse, Post-series, Speculation fic.

* * *

The young woman's tears are like sapphires spilling from her eyes, and you feel a pang, deep inside, for making her cry. She's pretty, even through her tears, with a strong jaw and mobile mouth that you think would probably be nice to kiss. Her pale hair shifts over her shoulders, her long bangs curtaining her eyes that she lowers, so you don't have to bear witness to her tears any more.

"I wish," you say tentatively, your voice rough and strange in your ears, "I wish you wouldn't cry. Your friend," you nod at the next bed over, where a kid who looks to be no more than skin and bones still sleeps, "he's alive, right?" And somehow, inexplicably, you had something to do with that, at least, that's what she'd said when you first woke up to the sound of her crying, 'Edward', and found her hugging you tightly. Not that it was a bad thing, that hug; you wish you'd wake up to that sort of thing more often. Far more healing than a doctor poking at you. "He's going to get better." You make your comment sound firm and sure, thinking she needs it, this pretty blond girl, wanting to comfort her, let her know everything was going to be all right. You think she deserves it. "Please, don't cry."

And she looks up at you then, wiping her reddened eyes. "Don't worry." She touches your hand and a smile like the dawn breaks out over her face. "These are tears of joy."

* * *

A.N.: I had originally planned on a "Five Ways Bringing Back Al's Body Went Wrong" but I've now forgotten the other ways I had thought out. So you just get this story.


	36. Chapter 36

* * *

"Why are you asking her?" Arms crossed, Ed glared at his little brother.

"Because Winry's a girl, for one thing, and for another, I'd bet she knows how girls like to be kissed." Alphonse made it sound almost plausible.

"Why aren't you asking me?" His glower deepened.

Winry snorted. "C'mon, Ed. Everyone knows you've never kissed a girl."

Alphonse held up a finger in correction. "Outside of Mom, at least."

Sputtering, Ed looked between the two. "How do you know I've never kissed a girl?"

With a shrug, Al said, "You would've said. I mean, you talked about everything else while I was in armor, how good the food was, what that horrible smell was," he rolled his eyes emphatically, "when you had a good bowel moveme– "

"I DID NOT." Ed knew he sounded like a steam whistle when he got embarrassed but he wasn't going to let Al finish that sentence.

"Ewww." Winry wrinkled her nose in disgust. "Guys are so gross."

"I did not!" Ed's protest fell on deaf ears.

"So you would've said if you kissed a girl. Or anyone." Al leaned a little closer to Winry, half covering his mouth with his hand. "I mean, maybe Brother likes guys."

"I DO NOT!" More steam whistle with a gargle thrown in. "What the hell are you thinking, Al? I don't like guys!"

Al shrugged, spreading his hands. "Well, you never talked about kissing anyone…"

"Do you even know the difference between men and women, Ed?" Winry gave him a quizzical look.

"Yes!" he howled in response. "Women are all…and guys are…."

"Inarticulate. Is that a good sign or a bad one, Al?" Winry rubbed her chin thoughtfully.

"I'm not sure." Al heaved a sigh. "Brother, you're not being any help." He turned back to Winry. "So, how do I know if she wants me to kiss her?"

"Well, she might do this." Winry took two steps closer, caught Ed's shoulder and kissed him. Letting go, she shrugged. "If she's shy, you'll just have to see if she's giving off any signals."

Ed blinked. What just happened, there? He goggled at Winry, just carrying on a conversation with Al, like she hadn't done anything out of the ordinary. "Hey?"

"What kind of signals?" Al folded his arms, getting that intent look on his face. "I mean, how would I recognize them?"

"Oh, like taking your arm while you're walking together." Winry nodded sagely. "Touching your shoulder or maybe your chest, little light touches. Licking her lips while she's looking at you."

"Hey, Winry?" Ed tried again.

"That doesn't mean she's hungry?" Al wanted to know.

"Hungry for you," Winry promised and they both laughed.

Ed hated being ignored, even more so when he knew they were doing it on _purpose_ to get a reaction out of him. With a growl, he grabbed Winry's shoulders, spinning her around to face him, and kissed her firmly. Pushing her back a few seconds later, he glared at his brother. "Keep your mouth soft and not wet. No tongue or teeth. Not a lot of pressure but make sure she feels it. She'll let you know if she wants to carry it any farther."

Al was staring at him, mouth hanging open. Ed thought it was a good look for his little brother. He glanced at Winry, seeing the calculating expression in her eyes. _Uh, oh._

"And what happens if she does, Ed?"

Quite sure he'd never heard that particular, purring note to Winry's voice, Ed decided he liked it. "What do you think?" he asked, leaning in to kiss her again.

* * *

A.N.: See? I'm not always mean to Ed! (grins)


	37. Chapter 37

A.N.: This originally was going to be part of "All the Flowers Growing Wild" but after writing it (and studying it and staring at it), I decided it bogged the story down. I thought that it worked pretty well for a 3Some story, though, so here it is.

* * *

"This doesn't look like the library."

Surprised, Alphonse looked back over his shoulder, spotting Winry and Edward. His brother stood with his arms folded, eyebrows beetled in a suspicious frown. "Hi, Brother, hi, Winry."

"Hi, Al," Winry responded as Edward grunted something that shouldn't have been said in front of a girl. Really, someone would think his brother was raised in a bar, with the language he used.

"Whatever it is, we're not taking it with us." Edward jerked his chin at Alphonse.

"Are you sure, Brother?" Alphonse picked up the puppy, turning his body so he could show it off. "It's little and hungry."

"Aww!" Winry reached out to the puff of spotted fur and Alphonse passed it over to her. She promptly cradled the puppy against her chest, laughing when it licked her chin. "Aren't you cute?"

"We're not taking it with us." Now Winry was the subject of Edward's glare, though Alphonse got a touch of it, too, with a, 'now you've done it' glower added.

The puppy squirmed in Winry's arms, its tail wagging furiously. "But it's so cute, Ed."

"Or it belongs to one of these kids." Edward waved a hand at the children running around the park. "I'd bet it just got away from one of them, like Den used to run away from us."

"I did ask, Brother." Alphonse got to his feet, towering over his brother and their best friend. Winry was busy teasing the puppy with a strand of her hair and the pup was biting at the fringe. "No one knows the puppy."

"We're still not keeping it." Shaking his head firmly, Edward somehow managed to ignore how cute Winry and the puppy were being together. Alphonse thought his brother could be incredibly oblivious, willfully so at times. "Besides, it doesn't look hungry. I'd bet someone's looking for it." He looked at Winry then, his expression softening just a bit though he became stern again when Winry glanced his way. "No. Don't even think it."

"But…Ed." She had this wheedling note in her voice, the same kind she got when she wanted something from Edward. "We can't leave a puppy alone, can we?"

He narrowed his eyes at her.

Alphonse gestured at the little dog, its paws paddling at Winry's fingers. "Brother, you know babies can't take care of themselves."

"It's not a baby!" Edward shot Alphonse a glare.

"He is, too." Winry hugged the puppy closer to her chest. "Just because he's not a human baby doesn't mean he doesn't need someone to take care of him."

Not about to be swayed, Edward waved his hands. "That's not going to be us. We've got things to do."

"Like what, Brother?" Alphonse thought his brother was going to break his neck, the way he whipped around like that. "I mean, Colonel Mustang did send us here on leave." He amended that. "You're on leave. I'm here on vacation. That means if I want to take care of a lost puppy, I can. Right, Winry?"

"Right, Al." She beamed a triumphant smile, chucking the puppy under the chin. "That means you need a name, little guy."

"You're not naming that dog." Edward's voice got louder, as if that might make a difference.

"What do you think, Al, what should we name him?" Winry was just as good at ignoring Edward as his brother was at ignoring her. She held the puppy up to her eye level. "What sort of dog does he look like?"

"No naming that dog! I forbid it." Edward reached out for the puppy but Winry took a step out of his reach.

"Don't listen to him, baby," she crooned to the puppy. Presenting Edward with her shoulder, she nuzzled the dog's head. "Uncle Al and I'll take good care of you."

Grimacing, Edward flung his hands in the air. "Fine, fine, take the damn dog but I bet we get kicked out of the hotel for having it. And if it gets fleas in my bed, somebody is washing everything down with lye soap. By. Hand."

Alphonse couldn't resist, clasping his gauntlets together in plea. "Does that mean since Winry has a puppy, I can have a kitten?"

The puppy barked at Edward's screech. It took Winry almost five minutes to settle him down, after she made Alphonse hustle his brother away. "We're not adopting the puppy." Edward's shoulders hunched as he stomped away from Winry. "We don't have time for a puppy. Or for a kitten. Or even a dog or a cat. Even if we are on some sort of," his hands waved around again, "leave, holiday, vacation! You know we can't," he lowered his voice, sneaking a glance over his shoulder, "can't let something else innocent get involved in this, Al."

"I do know, Brother. But it's little and helpless." Alphonse hesitated, remembering Nina, wondering if Edward would follow his thoughts. "…It needs us."

Shoving his hands deep into his trouser pockets, Edward grumbled something under his breath. Alphonse couldn't quite make it out but it his brother's shoulders slumped and he shrugged in acquiescence. "This is a mistake."

"Ed," Alphonse drew out his brother's name. "It's not a mistake to help those in need, is it?"

"Al, I know what you're thinking." Edward shot a look up at him, his expression miserable. "But you know why we can't take care of a puppy." His mouth turned down sharply. "Hell, we can barely take care of ourselves."

"But we might find a home for the puppy, Ed. Or maybe Winry could take it to Rush Valley. I'd bet she misses Den." Alphonse glanced at Winry, who had set the puppy on the ground, sitting with him and rolling him on his back. "And Winry likes him."

Edward snorted volubly. "She likes everyone."

"Not everyone," Alphonse said quietly and noticed his brother's shoulders stiffen in response.

"No," he muttered, and Alphonse could hear the hydraulics protest as Edward fisted his hands. "Not everyone." His jaw muscle flexed and tensed but, with an effort, Edward relaxed it again, watching Winry as she teased the puppy with a strand of her hair again. "I guess we need to get something for it to eat, huh? It's probably hungry."

"Thanks, Brother." Alphonse hoped his voice was as warm as the smile he wished he could offer Edward. He paused. "It really is a good thing."

"Yeah, you keep telling yourself that. You get to walk the mutt when it has to pee at two in the morning." Edward's scowl was exaggerated, as was his gesture for Alphonse to go tell Winry of his decision.

"Softie," Alphonse couldn't help but say as he went to collect Winry and the puppy, ignoring Edward's yelp of indignation.

* * *


	38. Chapter 38

Written for Ishte, I can't remember the occasion. Doesn't that suck? I remember she asked for Ed and Winry, and rollerskating, being a skatin' fool herself. :D

* * *

Roller skating wasn't something that had ever made its way to Rezembool – there weren't any paved sidewalks or streets for kids to skate on. Ice skating, on the other hand, when the winters were hard enough to freeze the ponds; that was something Winry was familiar with. The sight of kids zipping down the streets of Central City made her pause, hard enough that Edward ran right into her back, nearly knocking them both down. If Alphonse hadn't caught them and set them right, Winry was sure she'd have a few new bruises or scrapes on her knees and hands, and wouldn't that be fun to try to explain to Granny when she returned home.

"Jeez, Winry, next time let a guy know when you're gonna stop." Edward shot her a glare out from under his bangs.

Another kid shot by, laughing, with two more chasing after. "What are those?"

"Kids?"

She smacked Edward on the shoulder for such a stupid answer. "What are they wearing?" Leaning forward, Winry squinted, spotting tell-tale boots and lacings. "Are they skating on wheels?"

"Roller skates," Alphonse said, backing up when Winry turned that hungry look on him. "I mean, I've seen them before!"

"And you didn't tell me?"

"Why would we?" Edward exchanged a glance with his brother, the one that meant, 'Winry, who can understand?'

"Ed, do you have any idea the modifications I could make to your leg?" Winry started diagramming how to fit wheels in his foot. "I could make a retractable set of wheels!"

At the mirrored blank expressions from the brothers – well, Alphonse's didn't change, being as he was in armor, but still, he managed to give her that look, Winry elaborated: "Just think, if you had to zoom out of some place, you could use the wheels rather than run! Look how fast those kids are!" She waved an enthusiastic hand at the street.

Edward's mouth hung open.

"Winry," Alphonse squeezed her shoulders very gently. "Brother already is fast."

"But he could be faster." Winry frowned up at her friend.

"They've got wheels on both feet, Winry." Edward finally got his mouth to work.

"So?" She rounded on him, hands on her hips.

"So, that might work for Paninya but not me." Folding his arms, Edward nodded, as if that was the end of that.

"Hmmm," Winry said, fingering her chin as the brothers started walking again, "maybe I should work on installing retractable wheels in shoes, then…."

* * *


	39. Noticing

**NOTICING**

S J Smith

(This one was written for the LJ community, fma_fic_contest, with the prompt being "giving orders". Yes, it is similar to another ficlet I wrote earlier but Al's a sneaky guy, he insisted I use that theme again.)

* * *

Alphonse notices but he is the more perceptive brother, after all, despite usually keeping his observations to himself. Telling Edward would just start a screaming match or a fight and Al's sure that he doesn't really need to deal with that. And, truth be told, Alphonse is kind of disappointed for not realizing it earlier. Jeez, it's only been sixteen years, after all; he'd think he'd have noticed the signs way before this. Of course, it isn't exactly something he's been looking for. (Secretly, he's not sure he really wanted to be looking for something like that – Ed is his brother and while they share a lot of things, certain information is sacrosanct. Taboo. Not Necessary to the Brotherly Bond.)

Alphonse guesses it really does make sense, though; look at the way they were raised. No matter where they go, it seems there are always women giving them orders – and it is generally in their best interests to obey.

So the fact Ed gets that glazed look in his eyes when Winry barks at him to do something doesn't really surprise Alphonse. He just wishes he'd never noticed his brother's other involuntary reactions to Winry's orders. And maybe wishes Winry hadn't noticed, either.

Despite his misgivings, Alphonse figures it would have happened eventually and he's sure he can use this to his advantage.

After all, Colonel Mustang would pay through the nose for this kind of intel.

* * *


	40. Chapter 40

A.N.: Speculations on the end of the manga.

* * *

The dog waits in the sun, her chin pillowed on her forelegs, dozing, her eyes half-closed. The old woman basks with her, a curl of smoke from her pipe rising above her head. They enjoy the sunlight together, listening to the birds chirp and squabble over territory; those herd dogs barking at the silly, baaing sheep. The high pitched bleat of a lamb might drift to them as the little creature calls for its mother.

Those are not the sounds they're listening for.

The first one comes, far off and low, as mournful as the wail of a woman who's lover died. The train whistle doesn't stir them, aside from a flick of the dog's ear; a harder suck on the woman's pipe.

The second one comes, faint and high pitched, but loud enough to carry great distances - the clang of a brass bell as the steam locomotive pulls into the station.

The third one seems to take an impossibly long time, finally coming with a trio of shouts: a girl's voice twining with two boys', making the dog start to her feet and offer a single bark in greeting as the old woman stands, her smile as toothy as the shorter of the two boys' grin. For a few moments, everything jumbles together in the sheer sensation of _home._

And after the old woman hugs the taller of the two boys, poking fun at the shorter for being just that, and complements the girl on bringing them both back, she asks after her old friend, the boys' father.

The two sons of Hohenheim drop their heads, the eldest glancing to one side while the youngest releases his breath in a shuddering sigh. The girl touches them both, her own expression fierce and proud, even protective, as if to say, _See? See what he did for them?_ and the old woman nods in agreement.

After a moment of silence, she shoos them inside the house, pausing before following the children to take one last look out over the land.

"Thank you," she murmurs, removing her glasses to wipe at her eyes. "Thank you for bringing them home again."

* * *


	41. Chapter 41

Isn't Worth the Trouble Of

Inspired by the word "antipathy".

* * *

They'd left her, again, going someplace she could never follow. She was a mechanic, not an alchemist; not one to find a way to get through to another world. And that doorway had been closed, anyway - Ed had made sure of that. This time, he'd taken his little brother with him.

She supposed it was only right - the brothers had never been really separated until Ed disappeared the first time and Al had felt so alone. Winry didn't kid herself that she was any substitute for an older brother. And if she'd had a chance, if one of the brothers had held out a hand and said, "Come on, we're going!" Winry still didn't know if she'd accept it. Leave Granny alone? Leave Amestris?

Sometimes, she wished she hated them. It might be easier than the nagging sense of loneliness, the realization that so many dreams were just that and nothing more.

Al had once promised they'd be a team again. Winry just hadn't realized that he was excluding her, one final time.

* * *


	42. October Third

* * *

Edward Elric doesn't remember many significant dates. His parents were never married, so no anniversary date is circled on his calendar. He barely remembers his own birthday; doesn't talk about it, really. He doesn't know for sure the first time he came through the Gate to this world (it all happened so _fast_); he has no commemoration for his second trip through, nor the third (though Alphonse following him through was celebrated, once Edward got over the fact that his brother was trapped here, with him).

October third, though; that date is still etched in his mind; would be scratched into the lid of his pocket watch if he still carried one (he misses that weight but feels, almost, as if it would be wrong to have a pocket watch here to remind him of a past he's left so far behind). The thought that _she_ knows this date, knows the significance behind it, stings. Sometimes, he wonders if she's still waiting for them, for _him_, to come home.

Edward hopes she isn't waiting; he doesn't want her to be alone and lonely. Winry, he tells himself, has probably moved on. She deserves to be happy, not waiting for him and Al, flicking the lantern on and off to call them home.

* * *

A.N.: Originally, I'd written this ficlet for October 3rd, however, my computer crashed. I finally got it back from repair and was delighted to find this story hadn't vanished, as I'd feared.


	43. Pulse

**Pulse**

A.N.: Thanks to D. M. Evans for the first read through.

Written for the LJ community, fma_fic_contest, for the prompt, "rhythm." Al-centric; present-tense; 2nd person POV.

* * *

The world has a pulse.

You sensed it thrumming through your body when you were a child. That rhythm strengthened as you learned alchemy. It had been fainter when you were encased in steel but you remember that sensation. It was all you felt, those long years trapped inside that cage of armor, something you only remembered long after the 'death' of that body.

If not for that pulse, you might have believed you were a dream; something your brother had made to circumvent his guilt over his failure to bring your mother back to life. (You know better, how much better, now.) And even if you did accuse your brother of such a heinous crime, creating life where there had never been any before, a part of you didn't believe the words even as they spilled out of you.

You'd hurt him badly that day; something that still causes you remembered pain, like the ache of a phantom limb. The scolding Winry gave you – and the reverberations of her wrench striking your armor – resonates within you even now, despite your flesh body being returned to you on the Promised Day. The words you spoke, your accusations still pound in your memory. Wishing you could take them back does no good, though; nor do 'what ifs' about never having spoken them aloud. You said those words, for good or ill, and they hurt more than just you when you said them. Whether Edward or Winry remember that moment is something you don't like considering, so you turn your thoughts back to your journey, to the urgent message to come home.

A train carries you on its way across the countryside; a vessel carrying people the way a vein carries blood. The rattle-clatter of the wheels almost sounds like a heart to you. It reminds you of other journeys, when you and Edward traveled across Amestris, searching for the Philosopher's Stone. The rhythm of the car had rocked your brother to sleep numerous times. It would lull you into sleep, too, if you didn't feel so uneasy. You don't think you could sleep right now if someone offered you a cup of hot milk (though, in your mind, you hear Edward's screech about vile cow excretions). Your anxiety shows; the porter asked you if everything was all right; the older woman across the way notices your jittering hands. When you explain why, she smiles and moves to pat your wrist; the soft friction against your skin a welcome distraction and enough to calm you for a little while.

You wonder if that is how it was with your brother. When your body became steel, Edward had closed himself off, too. Thinking on it, you don't remember him having much physical contact with anyone unless he was fighting, though Winry was an exception to that rule. Not that you remember Edward initiating much of that contact; just Edward accepting that the Rockbell women needed to touch him for maintenance on his automail and soon, that role was Winry's alone. Not that she didn't touch you, too; even cased in armor, Winry had taken care of you the best she could. Edward was right when he told her she had healing hands.

But that makes you wonder, who heals the healer, and you force your thoughts back to wishing the train could move along that much faster. Every shimmy of the car makes you think of the second hand on a watch, ticking along but seeming to go so slow. You can see the landscape out the window moving, can feel the rhythm of the train beneath your body, but it isn't enough. You know how the world moves now, you've seen too much, maybe, in your short years, and things like this can always go wrong.

Finally, the train arrives in the station and you nearly burst off it, your one lone bag in hand. The only way to get home is by your feet – automobiles still haven't made a big impression in Rezembool, and Mr. Nedobeck's donkey ambles slower than you can walk. Heart beating in your ears, you realize how fast you're moving when your side stitches and you have to remember Master Izumi's teachings on how to move and breathe.

The yellow house finally comes into view. You charge up that dirt path, dust rising at the pound of your feet, Granny's chickens scattering at your approach. Leaping up the steps, you grab the screen door, hearing it squeal as it opens. Your heart is in your throat as you step through the doorway, the sound of your own blood like a river rushing in your ears. A weak, "Hello?" leaves your mouth and you feel as if you're about to fall. Clutching at the wall, you make your way down the hallway. As you peek through the open doorway to the kitchen, you the familiar sight of the family dog, her tail beating a light tattoo upon spying you.

Granny Pinako beams and you think she's beautiful. "Alphonse." Her arms full, her voice hushed for once. "Shh, Winry and your brother are sleeping. They had a rough night." Her eyes flick down to the blanket bundled in her arms. "Obviously."

Stepping hesitantly into the room, you're glad, at least, for that smile. The band around your heart eases and you let out a breath you hadn't known you were holding. "Is it…?" You tilt your head, trying to get a look.

"A boy, born at four-fifty-six this morning." Pinako's expression is softer than you've ever seen it. She tugs down the blanket, showing you a flushed face with eyes that seem to be sealed closed. "Say hello to your Uncle Al, sweetheart."

When you can think again, you realize you're holding your first nephew in your arms. Beneath your feet, you can feel that thrum. Against your chest, you feel a brand new heartbeat.

Your family has a pulse and that's worth celebrating.

* * *


	44. Fool's Errand

Fool's Errand

* * *

It's cold.

Winry knew she should've expected it but the realization struck home when she climbed off the train and into the station. If she's cold, how much colder must Ed be?

It's no wonder that regular automail could kill someone, chill the port and cause frostbite, as cold as it is here. She wonders briefly why Ed might come this far north then mentally shakes off that question – it has to do with the Stone. Ed wouldn't be foolish enough to come here unless he was tracking a clue.

Winry hopes that this time, finally, it's the right one.

* * *

A.N.: Just a quick little drabble for a new community on live journal. I couldn't resist Winry heading up to Briggs.


	45. Reproach

Title: Reproach

Author: S J Smith

Prompt: tangle (for the LJ community, fanfic_bakeoff)

Word Count: 198

Pairing: Edward Elric/Winry Rockbell

Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist

Warning: Post That Movie, a.k.a. _Conqueror of Shamballa_

Summary: Nightmares are a bitch.

Disclaimer: No no, never never, uh uh uh.

* * *

The sheets are tangled around his lower limbs when he wakes abruptly, eyes wide, chest heaving, the scream dying unreleased in his throat.

_Damn it_. Edward rubs his eyes, curling his body around itself. Outside, a storm rages, wind lashing rain at the windows, water overflowing the gutters and crashing to the streets below. He has no doubt the storm set off his nightmare, along with making his automail ports ache.

When he – when they – were children, on nights like this, Winry would wake him from his nightmares, bring hot compresses to his room, curl up beside him until he could fall asleep again. When he was young enough to allow it, that is; before he started shutting her out of his life even more than he and Alphonse already had.

_I never got to apologize._ Edward tightened his arms around his bent legs. _I never got to say 'thanks' for everything you did._

Winry, at least, was a forgiving girl. Maybe she'd understand why. Maybe she'd learned to hate him. Edward didn't like to think it, but hating him might be the best for her.

After all, there was no way back home to her any more.

* * *


	46. All About the Berries

Title: All About the Berries

Author: S J Smith

Rating: Teen

Prompt: yielding (LC Community is Fanfic_Bakeoff, prompt #3)

Word Count: 212

Pairing/Characters: Alphonse Elric, Edward Elric, Winry Rockbell

Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist

Warning: Post-Promised Day

Summary: Winry's eating strawberries. The brothers are entranced.

Disclaimer: Sadly, not mine. Though I probably wouldn't do them justice if they were.

* * *

She had no idea, really, how crazy she was making Brother. Alphonse was sure of it. And he had to admit, it really was an…interesting…sight. Maybe too interesting, but at least Alphonse knew enough to glance away, despite how…nice it was, watching Winry eat those strawberries.

She'd pick a berry out of the bowl and dunk it in the sugar before placing the pointed end in her mouth and sucking, her eyes half-closed as she stared off, dreamily, toward what, Alphonse didn't want to know. Maybe she was imagining…well, who knew. But Winry sat in that patch of sunlight on the end of the porch, her legs swinging lazily, the sun gilding her hair and skin, making the skirt of her sun dress practically see through, not that he could see much.

…not that he was ilooking./i Well, not much, anyway, and not nearly as much as his brother, whose face had turned nearly as red as the berries. Edward kept gulping, too, and his eyes had grown huge in his face, watching as those berries yielding to Winry's mouth. From the funny little gargled noise Edward had started making, he was imagining where he'd like Winry's mouth to be next.

Alphonse could only hope he wasn't quite as blatant about it.

* * *

A.N.: Hey, you. Reading this! Yeah. There's a voting contest going on for fanfic over at _www . dotmoon. net / awards_ and I'm in competition. Wanna go vote for my stuff? I've got stories labeled in both S J Smith and Evil Little Dog - and even if you don't vote for me, there are some terrific stories up for reading. go check it out.


	47. By Blows

**Title:** By Blows

**Author: **S J Smith

**Words:** 295

**Rating:** Teenish

**Summary:** The wind is a tease.

**Warnings:** Possible ending for the manga/FMA:B.

**Disclaimer:** The cow owns all of it. I'm just rolling in the clover again.

**A.N.:** Written for the LJ community, Fanfic_Bakeoff, for the prompt 'willful'. Also written for 503 Day - just posted here a little bit late.

The wind snapped and popped the clothes on the line, blowing Winry's hair over her face. As she fought with her hair, a gust snatched her underwear hanging from its too loose pin. The panties made like a willful kite of silk and lace, fluttering toward the road. Groaning, Winry dashed after. What had been on Granny's mind when she'd bought them for Winry, anyway? It wasn't like they felt comfortable under her coveralls and the lace scratched at her thighs when she'd put them on. Except for the fact someone would be sure to find them and might just bring it up in town, Winry'd let the wind have them. If Pinako Rockbell heard her granddaughter's underwear had been found without her granddaughter in them, there would be hell to pay.

Winry planted her calloused palms on the stone fence separating Rockbell and Nedobeck property, vaulting over it as if she was still a little girl. The underwear flipped up in the air, looping the loop above the road as she chased after it. Behind her, she heard Den bark, that single, deep bay of hers, but Winry didn't stop to consider what that might mean as her panties dipped down over the ridge.

She skidded to a stop at the top of the hill, eyes wide and chest heaving, staring at the two men standing in the center of the road. Even before her conscious mind realized who they were, Winry broke into a run, charging down the hill, nearly barreling over both brothers in her joy. They were home, they were alive, they were whole -

- and if that frothy lace tucked into the pocket of Ed's jacket and his blush meant anything, Winry thought she might enjoy retrieving her panties later.


	48. What Went Missing

What Went Missing

* * *

A.N. Note: Post CoS (aka That Movie) ficlet.

* * *

When Pinako heard that Edward Elric had returned to Amestris, only to go away again, taking his little brother, Alphonse, with him, she had to say she wasn't surprised. The boy had a wanderlust that had been bred into him by his father, and, raised up on the road the way he'd been, she had never thought he'd be satisfied with staying in Rezembool.

What did surprise her, though she didn't voice it aloud, was that Winry hadn't gone with them. Her granddaughter loved those boys, would've done anything to protect them. Would've followed them to the ends of the world. She didn't say that, of course, not to her granddaughter.

Winry came home, exhausted from her whirlwind trip to Central City, that heavy automail case so much lighter now that she wasn't toting around Ed's arm and leg in it. But something more weighed on Winry now.

Pinako recognized regret and sorrow, and especially, she knew what the sight of a love lost before it even had a chance to bloom looked like. She was a wise woman, after all, and had lived her life recklessly and well. She wished Winry had taken some of that recklessness and followed those boys.

It wasn't that Winry didn't have people who loved her, people she loved, but now, the hopeful glint in her eyes was dimmed. She said – with the proper amount of dismayed cheerfulness, that at least Al was with Ed now, and could take care of his older brother! – and left it at that. But Pinako saw the fevered designs, a complete right arm, all the way up to the ball joint of the shoulder; a left leg, from just above the knee, and knew. She noticed old photographs were rearranged, so golden and grey eyes suddenly peeped out where there had been stodgy poker players before.

There wasn't any automail to rebuild a broken heart. You just slapped a patch on it until it healed itself. It wasn't an easy fix but Pinako had faith in Winry. She was a strong girl, after all, strong enough to get through this.

Pinako just hoped, wherever those boys were, they knew what they were missing.

* * *

This story was written for the Live Journal Community, FMA Fic Contest, for the prompt 'repair'.


	49. Ruins

**Ruins **

Written for the Live Journal community, Springkink, for the prompt: Ed/Winry: shyness, unsure of his body – Ed wasn't sure how anyone could see the ruins of his body and find him attractive.

* * *

The buzz from the champagne hadn't faded by the time they made it back to the hotel. At least, Winry thought, almost clearly, it wasn't one of those _military_ hotels. Ed had decided to actually spend some money, getting them rooms in a place that not only didn't have a curfew but did have room service. Not that she wanted anything to eat right now.

"Thanks, Ed." She grinned at him, thinking that she'd smiled more in the past few months than ever in her life. Since Ed had called her to tell her everything was safe, she and Granny needed to come to Central to see Al, as he was still too weak to travel, Winry couldn't remember not having a grin on her face. Her cheeks were going to be permanently stretched, she was sure of it.

"For what?" His own smile was almost as bright. Winry wondered if her eyes looked that way, too; just a bit glassy.

"Everything. Taking me to the party," she gestured at her dress, with its sweeping hem and off-the-shoulders bodice, "getting Al his body back," she turned to him, laying her gloved hand on his shoulder, "not dying." Winry knew her smile had to change a little then, becoming bittersweet.

"I promised, didn't I?" Ed took her hand in both of his, the metal fingers cool even through the wispy fabric of her glove. He studied her knuckles and the lace covering them then raised his gaze back to meet hers.

Winry nodded. "Mm." The hotel hallway, near the doors to their rooms, probably wasn't the best place for this but the champagne encouraged her to rise up on her toes and kiss Ed's cheek. She tried not to show her disappointment when he dropped her hand, drawing back, though her lower lip jutted out before Winry could stop it. "Ed," she drew out his name far longer than should be possible, "give me a kiss."

His wide-eyed stare made Winry realize she'd actually said that out loud. Still, she wasn't the type of girl to take something like that back, even if her cheeks did heat up at the realization that she really did want Ed to kiss her. Though, from the expression on his face and the way he kept backing up, Winry thought Ed was not on the same page. For a second, she thought he was being shy or just weird but something flashed across his face that Winry'd never really seen before. "Ed?"

"You'd better go to bed, Winry." He wouldn't look at her as he unlocked the door to the room he was sharing with Alphonse.

"But," she said, reaching toward the door as Ed closed it behind him, a soft 'click' letting her know he'd locked himself in. "I just wanted a kiss."


	50. Give Thanks

They walked up the hill, the three of them together, carrying a pair of baskets between them, like they had when they were little kids. Den walked with them, too old to dash ahead any more.

Alphonse wasn't sure who'd had the idea; most likely, not Brother. Winry, maybe, or Pinako. Perhaps voiced a month ago, maybe slipped in during the conversation about him planning to travel to Xing. Maybe it had happened during a walk into Rezembool, to pick up something from the train station; or while Winry was spot welding another person's automail. Granny might've mentioned it over stew one night, possibly making Brother sputter or cough, or maybe making his face take on that reflective look it had been getting more and more lately.

It was time for them to move on, Alphonse knew, but a part of him hated leaving Rezembool. He could be content here, curled up on the porch with an old alchemy book in his hand, listening to Brother and Winry fuss at each other somewhere in the house. But Winry needed a chance to shine, too; to test for her automail mechanic license, and neither Brother nor he wanted to hold her back from that. And Brother's eyes were distant, too; staring off over the horizon, even when he'd loop an arm around Winry's shoulders while he was doing it.

The graves needed tending before they left; weeds pulled, flowers planted, stones cleaned from the extremes of weather. Secrets and love, both offered along with petals strewn. Brother's grumbled complaint about Dad, though he wiped Dad's stone carefully clean.

And when the four stones were put to rights again, they stood together, arms linked around each other's waist or shoulders, and said their quiet thanks for the lives they'd been given.


	51. Squashed

**Title:** Squashed

**Author: ** S J Smith

**Rating:** K

**Prompt:** Pumpkin

**Summary:** Winry builds a catapult.

**Disclaimer: **Arakawa owns all. I just play in the sandbox.

**Author's Note: ** Thanks to D. M. Evans for the edits.

X X X

It was a bad year for growing pumpkins. Too little rain early in the season. Too much rain late in the season. The pumpkins rotted on the vine, not worth harvesting except to clear the fields. Hogs could eat some pumpkins, but no farmer wanted to risk feeding them to the cows or sheep. Forget cooking a rotting pumpkin.

The kids had been studying ancient history at school. Winry didn't know who came up with the idea, Pitt or Ed, but she announced it was pretty stupid. That didn't mean she'd play dollies with the other girls – not when she could build a catapult. Some of the older boys went the easy route, using old innertubes anchored to young trees, but Winry commandeered the Elrics and Pitt to help with her creation. When it came time to unveil it, Winry stood proud, grinning at Michael Todd.

"Mine's better."

"Prove it, Rockbeast!"

Winry directed Ed to put the pumpkin in the catapult – "Make sure you don't get in there yourself, you're not much bigger than a gourd!"

"Shut up, Winry!" Ed howled, but at least he didn't throw the pumpkin at her. He made sure the trigger was set.

"Ed! Let go of that trigger!"

Too late – the pumpkin arched straight up into the air –

- it almost seemed to hang there, silhouetted on the sun -

- and crashed down on top of them.

And the stink of rotting pumpkin clung to them throughout the rest of the school day.

X X X


	52. More Than Less

**More Than This**

Written for the live journal community, fma_fic_contest, for the prompt "condense".

Note: Post _Conqueror of Shamballa_.

* * *

The autumn breeze toys with her hair, making her hand rise to smooth it back in place. The wind has no sympathy though, mussing the strands again. She might've worn a scarf today but had been in a too much of a hurry to run out into the world. It's silly she hadn't gone back in, she thinks. She has no schedule to keep track of, not really, certainly not on such a day. Even so, she feels as if she is running late for something very important.

She stops at a stand. The vendor remarks it's a beautiful day. She agrees, maybe overpaying her purchase, but it's worth it. The scent drifting off what she bought is sweet and bracing.

Carrying it to the park, she takes a cobblestone path, walking along the edge of a pond. Ducks squawk and honk off to her right, squabbling over the bread crumbs a little girl is throwing to them. Some of the birds break off from the flock, waddling after her. They would be disappointed. She has nothing for them to eat and won't share her coffee with them. The ducks stop following as she takes a fork in the path, going further into the park.

She has a specific goal, a place she needs to be this day. The path leads her in an ever-diminishing circle, until she stands in front of a monument. Taking a deep breath, she tilts her head back, needing to shade her eyes for a few seconds until they adjusted to the gleam of sunlight on the metal.

The impact two young men had on her country couldn't be condensed in a simple statue. There has to be more to than this – a plaque in front of a pair of bronze figurines – their lives have to be more than simply what the cold words implied. There has to be a story beyond the plaque.

Major General Alex Louis Armstrong, Retired, has given her a name to follow up on, one that might help her find out more. She hopes this Winry Rockbell will be able to tell her about two young men, the Elric brothers, and what actually happened to them, so long ago.

She wants to expand on their lives, so everyone will know who they are, beyond a statue in a park.


	53. Letter Home

Written for Inulovinkit, who asked for Ed and the shark.

* * *

_Winry,_

Before you get all freaked out over the picture, let me explain. Yes, I did go out on a boat. It was a big boat, big enough to haul that fish back to shore. They call it a shark locally, and it's got three rows of teeth. When one tooth comes out, the second row tooth moves up to take its place. It's so cool, huh? Well, anyway, I got asked to go out on a fishing boat. Don't worry, they weren't trying to drown me or anything. We got out so far, I couldn't even see shore. They cast out these huge nets and then would drag them in, hand over hand, full of fish. But there was some fish that got hurt and bled all over the place and then there was this giant fin coming out of the water. And the captain said we had to catch it! So he took the biggest fish from the net and put it on this huge hook and we threw it out. That shark bit and the boat rocked so hard, I thought I was going over the side. But the captain just yelled at everyone to hang on and we went on a ride! It was amazing, Winry! The shark kept pulling the boat and the captain kept yelling. We all had to help with wrestling it – no, we didn't go in the water, but we fought it on the fish hook, like we used to fight the catfish back home. It took hours but we finally got the shark settled down enough we could drag it home. The captain wanted it alive until we got closer to shore because it was too big to bring on board and he said sharks are hard to kill, anyway. But we finally got it into the harbor and some other boats came out. We got it to the dock and that's when I had them take the picture.

Wish you could've been here. Shark's delcious.

Love,

Ed


	54. Long Way Home

**Long Way Home**

Written for Ishte, who asked for a drabble but didn't give me any prompts. Therefore, she got a fic post That-Movie.

* * *

There were things Edward tried not to think about much once he'd crossed through the Gate a second time. One was what Winry thought about him leaving her, again. He hoped that bastard, Mustang, had the chance to explain to Winry why he'd left – and even more importantly, that it hadn't been his idea that Al follow along and that Winry would've actually listened to it. Edward wished he'd had a chance to tell her everything himself, but there hadn't been time. And when he'd thought, maybe, there would be time, instead he had to return to the other world, to make sure no one would find a way back through to Amestris.

His consolation was he had his brother with him, flesh and blood, not a suit of armor. And that made up for enduring those years here in this world alone. Al, though, couldn't make up for Ed's desire to see, one last time, a pair of blue eyes and a sweet smile welcoming him home.

It was easier and harder with Al next to him in their new world. Al wouldn't take any of Edward's bullshit, even forcing him to open up when Edward would've preferred to stay quiet. Al knew his brother well enough to press when the pain became a boil needing lancing, and when it was time to step back and let it go, at least for a little while. Edward appreciated that, even if he rarely could express the feeling. And they'd worked together, researching like in the old days back in Amestris, only this time, they were trying to find a way to return home.

Edward hated that he was the first one to give up on returning. He'd lost his temper, ripped up research, burned his journal. Alphonse had been the one to settle him down, to get him drunk when he needed it. Al had continued the research alone, not telling Ed until he found a way to get them back home.

And now, they stood next to a stone fence, with a path leading up to a yellow house. Al was smiling, his grin nearly brighter than the sun. Ed hesitated, though. It had been years – so long ago since he'd crash landed in that underground city and Winry had whispered, "Welcome home," in his ear. He would understand if she hadn't waited. He'd never said anything, after all; had even pushed her away when all she wanted to do was help. Edward had admitted to himself that he'd been an idiot in regard to Winry and her feelings and even his own emotions when it came to her. An apology would be the least he owed her.

"Are you going to stand here forever, Brother?" Alphonse was ready to walk on up to the house and bang on the door. Edward almost wanted to let him do it by himself while he waited here, to find out what might be there inside the house. Winry, married? Moved on? Gone somewhere he couldn't follow? "Come on, Ed!" Al broke through his thoughts, clapping Edward on the shoulder. "I'll race you!" Before he finished the sentence, he'd taken off, running for the house.

"Al!" Even the name came out breathless but Edward accepted the challenge, charging after his brother. Whatever happened now, at least they were home.

He only hoped, even after all these years, Winry still kept a light blinking in the window for them.

* * *

A.N.: Before you ask, no, I don't plan on writing more in this particular scene, unless something suddenly strikes. Considering both Ishte, in her story, _Chasing the Trail,_ and D. M. Evans, in her stories, _Source of Sorrow_ and _Sorrow's Dark Array_, have brought Ed and Al home to Amestris in ways that I love, I'd feel I'm walking in someone else's footsteps.


	55. Let It Snow

**Title:** Let it Snow

**Author:** S J Smith

**Rating:** Any can read.

**Disclaimer:** Arakawa's sandbox! I swear.

**Summary: **

**Note: **Written for CornerofMadness, for Yule, for the prompts of "Rezembool Trio and Giant Snowstorm, you know, like the one in '76" (which gives you an idea of our ages) and for the LJ Community, Fanfic_Bakeoff, for the prompt of "Carry".

X X X

The wind carried the cold weather out of the northern mountains, bringing fat flakes of snow down over Rezembool. The kids were shocked – fascinated – delighted the snow fell so thick, so fast. Pinako was glad she'd insisted the Elric boys stay at her house. She didn't think they could've made their way to the Rockbell homestead with the amount of snow that had fallen during the night but didn't bother saying it out loud; Ed would think he'd be fine and drag Al home with him, no matter how unsafe traveling in a blizzard might be.

"I'm bored."

Of course, Ed would be.

"When it stops snowing, you kids can play outside." Pinako hooked a thumb at the window, where Al was still staring at the falling flakes. "I'm not letting you go out now."

"Awww." Ed scuffed his foot over the floor, his lower lip pooching out.

The static made Winry's wispy hair stand on end. "We could play a game!" She ran out of the room and returned a few minutes later, carrying a deck of cards.

Scowling at the offer, Ed dragged himself over to the table. "Al. Al, come on," he whined. "We're going to play cards."

"But I wanna play in the snow!" His nose and hands smudging the glass, his breath left a cloud of fog, too.

"No one's playing in the snow until it stops."

"Awww!"

Pinako hoped she had enough tobacco to carry her through the blizzard. She had a feeling she was going to need it.

X X X

Actions 


	56. Snow Day

**Title:** Snow Day

**Author:** S J Smith

**Rating:** Any can read.

**Disclaimer:** Arakawa's sandbox! I swear.

**Summary: **They've been playing in the snow all day.**  
**

**Note: **Written for Yuuki Hikari, for Yule, for the prompts of "itty bitty Resembool trio and one cup of hot chocolate."

X X X

The kids stomped back into the house, bringing the cold with them. They had bright red noses and pink cheeks; their clothes sodden from their fun in the snow. Hair stuck to damp skin and fingers, chilled from the snow, moved slow. Pinako watched as they helped each other drag off jackets, unwind scarves, and kick away boots.

"Strip down and get in front of the fire." She pointed toward the living area. Naked kids ran, giggling as they landed in the nest of towels and a blanket. They rolled up together to get warm, squabbling over the cover, throwing towels at each other. Pinako sighed, letting them work it out themselves, heading back to the kitchen.

If the snow didn't melt, it'd be hard to get any deliveries, including milk. Pinako thought they'd be all right, though. The chickens would provide eggs, and there was still cheese in the pantry. There was tea and coffee, and her stock of apple cider and juice. There was a cord and a half of wood on the porch. And, there had been enough milk left over for a cup of hot chocolate and Pinako carried it in to the kids. "Here you are. You'll have to share."

Ed's nose twitched. "You two drink it! It has milk!"

"Are you sure, Brother?" Al asked as Winry accepted the cup, ignoring the face Ed made.

Winry said, "More for us, then!" She sipped and offered the cup to Al.

Pinako pointed her pipe stem. "You should drink milk, Ed. You're never going to grow if you don't." She pressed her hand on top of his head before he could squawk. "But I'll make you some hot tea. This time."

When she came back with the cup of tea, Pinako had to smile. The kids had fallen asleep, reminding her of a knot of puppies. Al's thumb was in his mouth, his back pressed against Ed's side. Ed's arms and legs were outflung, even under the blanket. Winry's head rested on Ed's shoulder and Den had joined them, her body curled around the kids.

"Guess the tea can wait, huh?" Pinako take a sip of it, smacking her lips. The kids could sleep for now. Later on, the boys could transmute the damp out of their clothes, and Winry could hang them up. But for now, it was nice to have the quiet soak into the room.

…at least until Ed started snoring.

X X X


	57. Trapped in Memories

**Title:** Trapped in Memories

**Author:** S J Smith

**Rating:** Teen

**Disclaimer: ** Just playing in Arakawa's sandbox.

**Summary:** Ed keeps repeating the same thing.

**A.N.: **Written for the LJ community, Fanfic_Bakeoff for the prompt, 'Bright'. This is an alternate reality story.

* * *

She watches him as he leaves, as she has all the other times before. He feels the weight of her regard on his shoulders as he shuts the door. It doesn't stop him from walking down the stoop and into the street.

The clouds overhead contain the light from the streetlights, making it bright enough that he can see almost as well as if it were day. Scientifically, light colored eyes see better in the dark. He'll use that to his advantage before the night is over.

Before the sun rises, he drags back home. She's waiting, as she always does. He wishes she wouldn't worry, but this morning, he's limping and bloodied, cradling one arm with the other. He's forgotten, _again_, the right arm is flesh. He wonders if he asks, if she'll make him a metal greave to protect his forearm. But that might be saying he's looking for these fights.

Maybe it's enough she welcomes him home, that she doesn't question him, that she tends his wounds and takes him to bed. Maybe it's enough that when he wakes, she smiles at him bright as the sun. Maybe it's enough she's willing to wait while he works out his problems on the street, chasing down assholes who're hurting other people.

He wants to make her waiting worthwhile but she's already wearing his ring. He's not sure what else he can give her until she wakes him one morning, racing from the bed and vomiting up everything she had the night before.

Out of everything else he'd lost, he'd been horrified to think he could lose her, too, until she'd explained.

With a baby on the way, he won't need to go out looking for something to fill the void of his brother's death any more.


	58. Carry That Weight

**Title:** Carry That Weight

**Author:** S J Smith

**Rating:** Gen

**Disclaimer:** Don't I _wish._

**Summary: **Alphonse second-guesses himself.

**A.N.: **Post-That Movie fic.

X X X

Alphonse Elric was an alchemist; he understood there were always two sides to an equation. That a misplaced sigil could cause a backlash. That alchemy could be used for evil as well as good. The only thing you could do was take your own stand and do what you thought was right – and if you couldn't do that, at least make the best informed decision you possibly could.

Of course, the heart sometimes didn't allow for that. He'd watched his brother wave goodbye and made his own decision – the only one he felt he could make – to follow Edward into that other world. He'd had no time to think, no time to consider whether it was the best thing he could have done.

Now, staring at a brand new world, one where alchemy didn't exist, a world as war torn as the world he'd left behind, Alphonse was left to carry the weight of his decision. He wouldn't be a burden to his big brother. He'd followed Edward into this world.

Alphonse would do his best not to regret his impulsive action.

X X X


	59. Heart of Metal

**Title:** Heart of Metal

**Author:** S J Smith

**Rating:** General

**Disclaimer:** Don't I _wish._

**Summary: **Winry is Ed's heir.

**A.N.**: Written for the prompt, 'distort', for Fanfic_Bakeoff at L.J. Also, Post "That Movie" fic.

X X X

Winry had seen metal distorted by heat and by alchemy. It always surprised her how much metal could be warped, as sturdy as it seemed. How it glowed like embers when heated, how it could be bent and hammered and shaped specifically, how it might take form as the plating for a new arm or leg, or be caps to automail fingers.

The soldier standing in front of her with a brown envelope was all flesh, he hadn't come to her Rush Valley shop looking for a repair. He verified her name, handed her a clipboard, and asked for her signature. When Winry hesitated, he told her, "You've been designated the heir to the Fullmetal Alchemist." Before she could react more than to scribble something, Winry would never remember what, he was gone, leaving her with the envelope.

Inside the manila was a letter, designating her, as the soldier had said, as Ed's heir. Al's name was first, and there was a note that said if Winry hadn't reached majority, Granny would hold everything in her name until she did.

The letter wasn't the only thing in the envelope. Winry's heart sank at the sight of the pocket watch, the case cover warped from some experience, the Amestrian leocampus twisted and scarred. Winding the watch chain around her fingers, Winry closed her eyes, feeling the weight of the watch and all it implied.

Metal could be melted, distorted, destroyed at high temperatures or alchemy, weapon blasts or even determined humans. Human hearts, on the other hand, were far more fragile.

X X X


	60. 1,000 Oceans

**Title:** 1,000 Oceans

**Author:** S J Smith

**Rating:** General

**Disclaimer:** Don't I _wish._

**Summary: **Edward Elric hates it when women cry.

**A.N.**: Written for the prompt, 'distort', for Fanfic_Bakeoff at L.J. Also, Post "That Movie" fic.

X X X

Edward Elric hated tears. A crying woman made his stomach clench up, made him feel frantic, made him want to do something, anything, so he didn't have to watch her cry. Usually, he showed a stoic's face at the sight of tears, or turned his head away, possibly tsking, though not necessarily at the tears but rather, his inability to make them stop.

He hated distorted faces, drawn with misery and choked sobs, swallowed more often than released in wails to pierce the sky. He hated reddened eyes, and the salty tracks left behind when the tears stopped. He hated handkerchiefs to blot the snot and wipe the eyes. Tears were the fastest, easiest way, to turn him into an automaton, unable to cope with the onset of emotions.

Al was the one who comforted, who provided handkerchiefs, who dried tears and patted backs and provided shoulders. Ed wouldn't – couldn't – do it. When his brother asked, he spun a tale about how he was bad at it, how unmanly it was, or even stomped off, leaving Al's question hanging in the air.

Ed couldn't tell his brother how women's tears reminded him of her, of Winry, of how often she'd cried for him, over him, over them both. He couldn't say how he hoped her tears had dried, that she didn't cry for them any more, because, in some dark, secret place inside of him, he hoped – how childish and cruel! – she always would.

But Ed couldn't tell Al his reasons for not comforting a crying woman. It wasn't the tears that left him cold, it was the realization he'd never tried to comfort Winry at all, and it wasn't right he offer that kind of support to someone else, when he'd never given it to his best friend.

X X X


	61. Clueless

**Title:** Clueless

**Author:** S J Smith

**Rating:** Teen

**Disclaimer:** Arakawa is the creator of this universe. Bones pays her bills. I just write fanfic.

**Summary: **Ed's clueless.

**A.N.**: Written for the LJ community, Fanfic Bakeoff, for the prompts of "Clue" and "First Person POV."

X X X

I would've thought Brother would've actually clued in to it a lot earlier than he had, but he's kind of dense when it comes to relationships. I'd say 'stunted', but that'd just set off another rant, and believe me, I've heard enough of them.

I mean, I know he's got a lot on his mind. I do, too, but maybe because I have to internalize everything, and I don't sleep, I see more than he does? Or maybe because I'm on the outside, looking in, I can pick up on more than Brother does? Whatever the reason, I knew it long before Brother did, which made it even funnier that he was frantically gargling and spitting in the sink.

The 'I could've told you so's' would have to wait. First, I'd need to make sure there wasn't an international incident between Xing and Amestris. Brother really shouldn't have hit Ling so hard for the kiss, if you asked me, but then again, if Winry had seen it, Ran Fan and I would probably be burying two bodies by morning.

X X X


	62. Secrets Kept

**Title:** Secrets Kept

**Author:** S J Smith

**Rating:** Gen

**Disclaimer:** Arakawa owns all of this except maybe this idea.

**Summary: **Winry's been keeping secrets for years.

X X X

When I peeked in the room, Grams was sleeping on her bed, with her yellow dog curled up in the crook of her knees, his chin on her calf. He rolled his eyes at me, his shaggy eyebrows twitching, but at least he didn't bare his teeth. I don't know why Grams loved her cranky little dog so much, but he was her constant companion, always at her side or her feet. She called him 'Fullmetal', which should've been a hint, but she was my grandmother, and grandmothers never did anything interesting.

I guess, if I'd thought about it, there were a lot of clues. The battered old pocketwatch she kept on her dresser, along with some really old photographs of a little blond girl and two boys, and some newspaper clippings tucked into envelopes from Central City, from Auntie Elicia's mom. I'd never been too nosy, though; never asked any questions about Grams' childhood. I figured she was always the same, the somewhat arthritic, always smiling, bent over woman with the squinting blue eyes and big smile.

The book I'd found at the Central City college library disproved that, with a photo of Grams as a little girl, standing with the military, as a man who'd tried to kill her was led away in chains. And comments about her state-of-the-art automail, designed for the Fullmetal Alchemist, as well as speculation regarding their relationship.

It would explain why I didn't have a granddad on Mom's side, since the Fullmetal Alchemist disappeared one day. And people always commented on Mom's weird colored eyes – a sort of yellow-gold color, like Fullmetal was supposed to have.

But I wasn't going to wake Grams to ask her. Backing out of the room, I closed the door. She could keep her secrets a little longer.

X X X


	63. Second Time Around

**Title:** Second Time Around

**Author:** S J Smith

**Rating:** Gen

**Disclaimer:** Arakawa owns all of this except maybe this idea.

**Summary: **Winry's been keeping secrets for years.

**A.N.:** This is another one of my, "Ed gives up something to Truth for Al" alternate reality stories. Winry's POV.

X X X

I watch them run around the yard. Den's old, but she can still keep up with Ed. Al's on the ground, laughing, and both Ed and Den pounce on him, making him laugh harder. I know they'd welcome me in that pile, but I'll sit and watch. Nothing's the same, not since they'd come home with their military escort to protect them.

They didn't need protection in Rezembool, but there were people who'd look at Ed and Al and think they could take advantage of them. Al's sweet, and clever, but sometimes he's gullible, and Ed….

As if he knows I'm thinking of him, he pops out of the squirming pile of boy and dog, wriggling free of Al's hands and charging toward me. The look on his face, it's just like it had been back before the brothers tried to bring Auntie Trisha back from the dead. "C'mon, Winry!" He skids to a stop at the bottom of the steps, beckoning me to join him. "Don't just sit there, come play!"

Al told Granny and me what happened with Truth, and Ed trying to get their bodies back. His bargains with Truth were rejected, all except one offer – Ed's life for Al's. But Truth put a twist on it, taking only a part of Ed's life.

"Winry!" Ed glares at me, and I smile – I can't help but smile at either of them – and climb off the porch. Ed takes a couple of steps back, making sure I'm following, then runs toward Al and Den. "Yay! Winry's gonna play, too."

Ed's a little boy again, just ten years old. He doesn't have a clue how I felt – feel – about him. But I follow him back into his childhood thinking, it's okay.

I can wait 'til he's old enough again.

X X X


	64. Overly Familiar

**Title:** Overly Familiar

**Author:** S J Smith

**Rating:** Gen

**Disclaimer:** Arakawa owns these characters. I only wish I did.

**Summary: **Ed hates Rush Valley.

X X X

There were all sorts of reasons Ed hated Rush Valley: the hyenas, who kept following him around, wanting to get a look at Winry's work and the heat, that made him feel like his automail was roasting the flesh parts of his body were just two of his reasons.

But the real reason was caused by wading through all of Winry's clients, waiting to see her. "Damn it, Winry," he hissed under his breath, "why do you have to be so friendly to these people?"

X X X


	65. Jealous Reaction

**Title:** Jealous Reaction

**Author:** S J Smith

**Rating:** Teen

**Disclaimer:** Arakawa owns these characters. I only wish I did.

**Summary: **Ed's jealous.

X X X

"Do you have any idea how talented you are?"

Ed froze, hearing those words. It was so nice to be recognized. He ducked his head, hiding his blush underneath his bangs, trying to get himself under control. It wouldn't do to show he was embarrassed about someone complimenting him. Taking a deep breath, he tossed back his hair, plastering a huge smile on his face and turned to face the complimenter.

And his jaw dropped open, at the sight of the man making eyes at Winry, who was blushing and - _so not cute!_ - and – and –

"What the hell is this?" he roared, stomping back to her.

"Someone who likes my work, Ed!" Winry snapped back. "Geeze! Don't be a jerk!" She shoved him aside and walked off, her nose in the air, and her hands clenched into fists.

Ed gaped after her. _Fuck_. When did she get so cute when she was angry?

X X X


	66. Tall Tale

**Title:** Tall Tale

**Author:** S J Smith

**Rating:** Gen

**Disclaimer:** Arakawa owns these characters. I only wish I did.

**Summary: **Pinako's sure the kids are exaggerating.

X X X

Pinako sucked on the mouthpiece of her pipe, staring at the quartet – three kids and a dog – at the bottom of the porch steps. "How'd you kids get to be such a mess?"

"It was amazing, Granny!" Winry took a step forward, stopping before her muddy foot touched the first step.

"Yeah, there were all these cows!" Ed waved his arms, slinging thick, still wet mud in his enthusiasm.

Winry grabbed Al by his shirt collar. "And Al tripped!"

"And fell down in front of the cows!" Ed went on.

Al smiled, the type of pained smile that let Pinako know the other two were either exaggerating or out and out lying. "Is that so," she said finally. "Al, is that true?"

"Uh," he ducked his head, wincing.

"That's what I thought." Pinako stared down at them all, Ed's fierce scowl at his brother and Winry's pout, and Al's lowering head and protruding lip. "Well, you three sure have some imaginations," she said. "Get cleaned up with the hose, you three, you're not coming inside and tracking mud everywhere. I'll bring you some fresh clothes out. And after you're cleaned up, we'll talk about just what really happened."

X X X


	67. Wounds

**Title: **Wounds

**Author:** S J Smith

**Rating:** Teen

**Summary: **Ed isn't going to let Scar get away with this.

**Disclaimer:** I own absolutely nothing.

* * *

Blood ran down his forehead, blinding him, and Ed tried to blink it out of his eye. He didn't want to let Scar out of his sight. The Ishbalan stood there, his fingers flexing, and that was as dangerous as a bomb about to go off. Ed gritted his teeth, trying to catch his breath. The fucking fight had gone on too long already. Where the hell were the homunculi? At least one of 'em should've shown up by now. Or Ling to let them know they'd caught one.

Well, while he had Scar in place, maybe he could ask the question he'd wanted to ask since he'd met up with the Ishbalans in the Xerxes ruins. Alphonse was moving into position, keeping Scar's attention, and Ed took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart. Why the hell did asking this question hurt so damned much?

"Scar!" he shouted, getting the bastard's attention. He clenched his fist, hearing the faint squeal of metal against metal, the whine of his servos. "There's something I want to ask you! About two Amestrian doctors, a married couple." Did the bastard's eyes flicker? And what the hell was Al shouting about?

Just then, Edward caught sight of her out of the corner of his eye. Winry slumped boneless to the ground. His heart sank along with her. He'd never be able to tell her things the fucking right way. Just like Hughes's death – he'd fucked that up so bad – and now she had to find out about her parents' murderer by hearing him shout questions in the street. Every pain he'd endured was nothing compared to the sight of Winry collapsing, her shaking hand reaching for that pistol, picking it up. She was innocent still – this wasn't her fight, he had to fight it for her, why couldn't she see that?

Winry trembled as she raised the pistol. Scar cracked his knuckles. Ed wanted to scream. Whatever happened, it wouldn't only be a flesh wound.


	68. Transmutes

**Title: **Transmutes

**Author:** S J Smith

**Rating:** K+

**Summary: **Winry tries to deal with being left behind the last time.

**Disclaimer: **If I had any part of this, I wouldn't be living in Boxtown. 

X X X

For someone who isn't an alchemist, she feels as if she knows far too much about that particular science. Equivalent Exchange, as far as she is concerned, may not be – so far, it seems the world has taken and taken, and not offered that much in return. Her parents were taken from her by orders of the military, and while she no longer blames the man who killed them, her trust in the military and the governing body of her country is still lost. The same man took the boys who were almost her brothers from her, but alchemy claimed them long before he did, and now, alchemy has taken them from her for good.

She's been told her safety is the exchange for losing them, but she doesn't believe it. It sounds more like someone telling her stories. She's so tired of the stories, tired of being safe. Moreover, she's tired of being alone. The weariness translates itself from her heart down into her bones, dragging at her like the links of an iron chain, until, if she had no reason to rise in the morning, she would lie in bed all through the day.

It takes time for sorrow to transmute into something else. She knows it will happen, sooner or later. She will shed this lethargy, and the dressings covering the wounds she carries deep inside will slough away, even though she knows some wounds never heal.

They're together, she reminds herself, which was the thing they most wanted – to be together, in their bodies. The thought doesn't bring her comfort, not yet, but maybe, some day, it will, and then, her healing will be as complete as it can be, while she still misses them. After all, there's no equivalency for the void in her heart.**  
**

X X X


	69. Back Then, V1 & V2

_NOTES:_ I belong to a community on Live Journal that offers daily prompts for various fandoms. I picked up a prompt - _And when I breathed, my breath was lightning_ - and immediately thought of Ed. Of course, my original fic (version 1) was too long for the daily challenge. So I rewrote it (version 2). Hope you enjoy both of them!

X X X

_Back Then - Version 1_

X X X_  
_

You kneel on the roof of the house, your_ home_, though you've realized 'home' is more feeling than an actual place – home is where she is, and where your brother is. Even if they're at separate places across the land, wherever they are is home.

But thinking like that won't fix the roof, you need hammer and nails and shingles, and your own strength, where one time you pressed your hands together, and transmuted whatever was broken. Back then, when you took a breath - _And when I breathed, my breath was lightning - _you could taste the ozone in the air as the lightning flashed up from the transmutation, and suddenly, everything was changed.

Alchemy, though, can't heal a broken heart. It can't bring someone back from the dead. It has its limitations in dealing with matters of real day-to-day life, involving other people.

A call makes you look, and smile at the face grinning at you. Alphonse climbs up onto the roof with you, and you think, again, trading away your alchemy? Worth it.

Totally.

X X X

_Back Then - Version 2_

X X X

Back then, you took a breath, tasting ozone on your tongue as the lightning flashed up from the transmutation circle, and afterward, everything was changed. You were like a god.

Alchemy, though, can't heal broken hearts. It can't bring someone back to life.

Not godlike.

You exchange alchemy for your brother's life without a second thought.

X X X


	70. Celebration

**Title:** Celebration

**Note:** Takes place during Winry and Al's time in Liore.

* * *

Winry tilted her head back, staring at the sky through the window. In the streets below, she could hear the celebration; people clapping pans together, and shouting, and raucous music playing somewhere close enough to annoy.

"Come on, it's time to go," Rose sang out, looping a light scarf around her neck.

Slowly, she got up, her gaze still lingering at the window as she followed Rose out of the apartment, and down into the streets. Alphonse waited for them, along with Jerso and Zampano. "Hi!" Alphonse chirped. "You both look great!"

Rose smiled at him sweetly, while Winry grinned. Zampano offered Rose his arm, and she slipped her hand through the crook of his elbow, taking Jerso's as well with a cheerful laugh. The trio started toward the celebration in the center of town, Winry and Alphonse following behind.

"You're quiet," Alphonse said, a faint squeal sounding as he tilted his helmet to look her way.

"Just thinking."

Somehow, he managed to convey a sly look. "About Brother?"

"No!" Winry glared back at him, rapping her knuckles on his greave. "About…about the stars." She tilted her head back, looking up at them, how many there were, washing across the sky. "Did you ever think you'd see a New Year's celebration somewhere other than Rezembool, Al?" With a sigh, she said, "I didn't."

"But it's a good thing, right?" Alphonse asked.

"Mm!" Nodding vigorously, Winry smiled, though it was more wistful than brilliant. "I miss us counting the stars on the evening before the new year, Al. Do you remember?"

He lay his gauntlet on her shoulder, the weight barely registering. "I do," Alphonse said. "Maybe next year, we'll be together, and we can do that again."

"Yeah," Winry said, and suddenly dimpled. "Unless you're back in your body, and Mei's kidnapped you!" Laughing, she darted out from under Alphonse's hand, ignoring his shout of how she wasn't funny. "Next year," she murmured, glancing toward the sky again, "we'll be together, right, Ed?"

She imagined Edward saying, "Right!", his smile, cheeky and sure, and smiled in return.


	71. Discharging

**Title: **Discharging

**Author:** S J Smith

**Rating:** Teen

**Summary: **Al's disappointed in his brother's manners.

**Disclaimer:** Arakawa owns all. I just play around with her characters.

* * *

"You know, you really pissed him off." Al slapped the hospital mattress, wishing he had more strength in his hands and arms. It was hard being frustrated and not being able to do anything about taking out his anger on something. Like his stupid, hard-headed brother.

Ed waved him off. "Nothing the bastard didn't deserve," he said, leaning back in his own bed, a decidedly wicked grin on his face.

"Ed, Colonel Mustang did a lot to help us out. You didn't have to throw your watch in his face." Al was glad the man had his sight back, and his hands had healed enough to be able to catch the watch. And Ed hadn't actually thrown the watch at the Colonel's head, even though he had pitched it across the room. Still, exaggeration was sometimes the only way to get his brother's attention.

He shrugged, picking up the straw from his glass and stuffing the end of it in his mouth. Chewing on it, he shifted it from side to side in his mouth, and Al wondered if Mr. Havoc offered his brother a cigarette, if Ed would take it.

"Brother."

"Al, I'm not taking a commission with the military. I don't want anything from them any more. I'm retired. Or dismissed. Whatever the hell it is when you get out."

Al debated whether to ask if Ed was keeping his military pension. And decided against it. "Discharged."

Ed pointed the straw at him in agreement before dumping it back in his glass, the end of it completely mangled. "We're here 'til you're well enough to go back home, and then, Colonel Bastard will just get the sight of our asses, climbing on a train."

"You're not planning on mooning him as we leave, are you?" Al's suspicion grew with Ed's manic, toothy smile. "Edward Elric, I don't want to kill you, but I will. Mom would be so ashamed!" Al discarded the idea of saying Dad would be disappointed. Ed wouldn't care at all what their father thought.

Ed plucked the straw out of his glass, lacing his fingers behind his head as he lay back in the bed. "Eh, the bastard won't do anything. His physical therapy's gonna last almost as long as yours. If he tries to use alchemy and scorch me, he could miss and blow up a train car."

There was something wrong with Ed's thinking on that, but Al didn't want to delve too deeply into it. "You're not mooning anyone!" he snapped. The smirk on his brother's face let Al know Ed was going to do something amazingly stupid. "You're going to be in so much trouble, Ed, if you even unbutton your pants when we get on that train."

His snicker let Al know that, no matter what he said, his brother was determined to be an asshole. Or show his off, one of the two. Maybe he'd just take an earlier train home. Winry and Granny would understand, once they heard what Ed had planned. Al was sure of it.


	72. Blood Loss

**Title: **Blood Loss

**Author:** S J Smith

**Rating:** Teen

**Summary: ** Ed has to get his Al's soul back.

**Disclaimer:** If I owned any of this, I wouldn't be living in Boxtown.

* * *

The trouble with blood loss was, no matter how tightly you bound the wound, if it was a major artery, your heart was going to continue pumping, and the blood had nowhere to go except out. That wasn't the only problem; the blood was rapidly leaving your body, making it very hard to think. And you know there's only so much blood in the human body – and you, you're _just a kid_ and there can't be as much blood in you as there would be an adult.

Still, you've got to make a new transmutation circle, one that will get your brother back – at least, his soul. Somehow, you know, and you're not quite sure how, or why, but you _know_ you cannot just pull his body out of the ether. So you knock down a suit of armor your Dad had somehow gotten to Resembool, one of two, the one you like more, the one with the spikes on the shoulders and helmet, so it looked cooler, and you draw a transmutation circle inside the armor, and mirror it on your body.

The blood is slippery and your head and heart are both pounding, and snot and tears are running in your mouth. You spit them out, you don't have _time_, and you scream as you press your hands together, calling on the powers of the transmutation circle and your own will to drag your brother's soul back from the world beyond. This has to work, it _has_ to, because you're not going to lose your brother like you lost your Mom, like you lost your Dad, no, not today, not tomorrow, not ever.

"Give me back my brother!" you shout as the transmutation explodes around you, within you, and suddenly, you feel your arm unraveling the same way your leg had before.

The toll's been paid, you have your brother, your little brother's soul, and that's okay, because you _have_ him, you think, just before the blood loss drags you straight down into a pit so black, you might never climb out of it again.

* * *

end


	73. Shadowlands

**Title: **Shadowlands

**Author:** S J Smith

**Rating:** K+

**Summary: ** Winry knows about death.

**Disclaimer:** I swear, I don't own.

* * *

Winry knew about death. It meant something wasn't living any more. When she pulled a potato out of the ground, it killed the potato plant. The mutton or beef she ate for supper came from an animal that had been butchered, probably by Mr. Culbertson or Mr. Nedobeck, or, if it was chicken, by her grandmother. But she didn't know about human death until the word came that her parents had been killed in Ishbal, their bodies found, nearly torn apart; the inside of their hospital tent destroyed.

Not that she was aware of that at first. Granny told her that Mommy and Daddy had died, and they wouldn't be coming home any more.

Their caskets came, and Pinako was advised not to open them. What was left of Urey's and Sara's bodies hadn't been found immediately, and wood couldn't contain the stink of death that created its own miasma around the caskets. She'd had them buried the next day, unable to wait any longer. Winry couldn't remember much of it, just that the smell was awful, and a lot of people tousled her hair and patted Granny's shoulder.

The house seemed different the first night after the funeral, like it was holding its breath, and Winry couldn't sleep. Mommy and Daddy were under the ground, buried up on the hill. They weren't ever coming home. And the shadows in her room didn't seem familiar any more. What did Death look like? Did Mommy and Daddy see it? Did it make them scared? Did it come for them in the night, while they were sleeping? If she closed her eyes, would it take her, too?

Winry shivered, clutching Kuma, her stuffed bear, tight. Daddy said Kuma'd protect her when he wasn't there, but Winry didn't think Kuma could protect her from Death. For all she knew, Death was in her room right now, hiding in the dark. But she didn't cry out loud, because Daddy'd said for her to be good for Granny, and crying would wake her. Kuma soaked up her tears that night, and the next night, and for many nights afterward.

She didn't forget about those nights, and what might lurk in the shadows of her room, but she'd put them aside with other memories, locking them into a tiny box of sorrows, and remembering happy times with her parents. The warmth of Mommy's kisses, the strength of Daddy's arms when he hefted her into the air. She learned that she could go days without thinking of their deaths, though those memories remained there, taken out some nights, when the wind rattled the shutters of the house, and licked at the windows, sending scurrying little breaths through the easements and cracks. Mostly, though, she didn't think about Death.

At least, not until Alphonse showed up in the doorway, his voice ringing through a suit of armor streaked with blood, Edward cradled in his arms, clutching at where his right arm had been, a dripping cloth bandaging the stump of his left leg. And then, Winry knew that what hid in the shadows could come creeping into the light, as well.


	74. Open to Interpretation

**Title:** Open to Interpretation

* * *

It was strange, Al thought, seeing his brother look so open. Vulnerable, even. Usually, he fussed and fought, snarling at anyone who got too close. But right now, his eyes half-closed, his body relaxed, it was hard to recognize the brat he'd been earlier today.

His head tilted to his right, to where Winry sat beside him. She'd fallen asleep a little while ago, though it wasn't obvious at first, at least not until Al realized her eyes were closed. Ed's elbow pressed into Winry's arm, and, as the automail didn't really provide anything in the way of nerve sensations except for pressure points in the fingers, he probably didn't realize it. It didn't mean Ed wasn't aware of Winry's presence. The way he'd leaned his head closer to her, that inadvertent touch, even how Ed seemed completely relaxed, it said a lot.

Winry sighed and shifted sideways, her head landing against Ed's shoulder. With a grunt, she readjusted herself, and settled in again. A tiny smile warmed Ed's face, and Al decided he'd have all sorts of ammunition to use against his brother some time, when Ed and he were alone.

Al wouldn't wake up Winry just to tease his brother, no way. Winry would be a lot more violent about it than Ed ever could be, but Al knew he'd get his chance at her. Her vulnerabilities lay in different areas, after all, and Al knew just how to exploit them, too.


	75. Closer Than You Think

**Title: **Closer Than You Think

**Author:** S J Smith

**Rating:** Teen

**Summary: **Ling's chilly and he wants to get warm.

**Disclaimer:** I'm just playing paper dolls here.

* * *

"I'll be right back," Winry said, leaving the bench seat she'd been sharing with Ed.

"Where did she go?"

"Gah!" Ed startled at seeing the stupid prince sitting next to him. "What are you doing?"

"Watching Winry." His smile disappeared into a pout. "But now she's gone."

"Yeah, well, she'll be back soon, so go take your own seat." Gesturing to the empty seat next to Al, Ed tried to direct Ling back there.

"But this is warmer," Ling said, snuggling up.

Al managed to pout with his steel face. "I'm sorry, Ling."

"Ed can warm me up!"

Ed slapped at Ling's hand. "What are you doing?" he yelped. "Stop groping me!"

"But you're warm!"

"Isn't that what you have servants for? Go cuddle with one of them!" Ed shoved at Ling, but he tangled around Ed like a stupid scarf.

"They're riding on top of the train!" Ling reminded, rubbing his cheek on Ed's shoulder.

"Dammit, Al, stop giggling and help me!"

Al spread his hands. "You probably are warmer, Brother!"

"Gah!" Ed wriggled himself free of Ling, shaking his leg to get the stupid prince off of him. "Winry! Come take your seat!"

Ling let go of Ed to grab her. "Yes, sit with me and keep me warm!"

"Aw, you poor thing, are you cold?" Winry hugged him. "Ed, sit with Al. It's okay, Ling, I'll warm you up."

Ed promised himself he was going to thrash that stupid prince within an inch of his life.

* * *

Written for the prompt of 'grope' for the LJ community, FMA_Fic_Contest. It didn't win, drat it.


	76. Messed Up

**Title: ** Messed Up

**Author:** S J Smith

**Rating:** K+

**Summary: **Ed doesn't want to eat this stuff.

**Disclaimer:** Arakawa owns all.

**Notes:** Written for the LJ Community, FMA_Fic_Contest, for the prompt 'pasta'.

* * *

Ed stared at the plate in front of him. "I don't want this," he said, making a face and shoving at the plate. It rocked slightly, then stilled, and Ed's hand fell next to it, trembling from the effort of trying to move it.

"You should, Brother, you need your strength!" Al tried to be helpful, he really did, Winry thought, but Ed was just going to be a miserable brat.

Her hands on her hips, Winry said, "I'm not making you anything else, Ed!"

"I don't like spaghetti!" Ed whined, his nose wrinkling up, sticking his tongue out. "It looks like," and he shuddered, trying to push the plate again. It barely moved.

"But Brother," Al said, his fingers tapping together. "You need to eat."

"I'm not hungry." Ed's stomach growled, making his words a lie, but he folded his arm across his chest, and turned his head. "I don't want it, Winry! Get it out of here. It's gross."

"It's not gross, Ed, it's spaghetti!" Winry picked up the plate, stirring the noodles around in the red sauce, made with fresh tomatoes and green peppers she'd picked herself, and sausage, and a lot of spices, same as always. Ed had always fussed when she'd made it, and she didn't understand. It was really good, she knew it was. She'd had some herself while she was cooking it, to make sure it was seasoned right.

"It's gross, Winry!" Ed shoved at the plate, this time getting enough force behind his fingers to knock it onto the bed. Red sauce splattered the blanket, part of the sheet, and fell onto the floor, the noodles dripping down off the edge of the bed. "Gah! Look what you made me do!" he shouted.

"I didn't make you do anything!" Winry yelled back at him, grabbing for the plate and combing the spaghetti off the bedding with her fingers. "Now I've got more work," she muttered, "I'll have to wash your blanket and your sheets, and mop the floor." Shaking her head, she squatted down to try and scoop at least some of the sauce and noodles onto the plate.

"I told you I didn't want it!" Ed snapped.

Al sighed. "I'll get the mop and laundry basket, Winry," he said, and clanked his way out of the recovery room.

"Okay, so you didn't want it, you didn't have to make a mess! You're not a little kid, Ed!" Winry grabbed a couple of cleaning rags and started wiping up the spaghetti on the floor.

"I don't want it near me!" Ed's breathless voice caught her attention.

Glancing up, she could see how pale his face had gone. Winry got to her feet, reaching for him. "Ed, what's – ew, what's wrong with your hand?" Her fingers nearly slid off his, he was so damp and cold. "Ed?"

He shuddered, pressing his face against the pillow. "I don't want the spaghetti, Winry."

"Okay, okay, I'll make you a sandwich or something! Geeze. You don't need to act all crazy." Winry grabbed another blanket, wrapping it around his shoulders. "Are you going to be okay?"

For once, Ed didn't say anything, just nodded, and Winry patted his arm before going back to cleaning up the mess. She noticed how he kept his eyes closed until she had everything in a pile, ready to go in the laundry basket when Al brought it into the room. They worked together to get Ed out of the bed so it could be stripped and dressed again, and Ed finally lay quiet, still shivering a little, but not nearly as bad as he had been.

"Better?" Winry asked.

Ed nodded, tugging the blanket up further around his chest. "Thanks," he muttered.

"You're welcome." Winry said it almost the same way Ed had.

After she'd gotten the laundry started, Winry fried an egg to make a sandwich for Ed. As she returned to the recovery room, she could hear the brothers talking, and hesitated before going inside.

"…spaghetti, Ed?" Al asked.

"Nng…it's…it looks weird."

"You ate it before," Al pointed out.

"Yeah, but," Ed sighed. "I can't explain it, Al! But now it looks like…like…it reminds me of the insides of that…of…Mom. Of what…she looked like. Inside."

"Oh," Al breathed, the sound echoing around the metal of his body. "I'm sorry, Ed."

"Not your fault," Ed said gruffly. "Or Winry's. She didn't know."

Winry bit her lip, imagining what Ed must've seen. Beyond saying that she'd buried what she'd found in the Elrics' basement, Granny didn't talk about what the boys had made with their alchemy. Winry had studied her parents' medical books, and knew the clinical terms for all the internal organs, but the idea of seeing them raw and bloody, pulsing and heaving, made her press the back of her hand to her mouth.

Neither of the brothers said anything for a little bit, and Winry, in control once more, decided she'd waited long enough. Pushing through the door, she said, "Egg sandwich, Ed! Try not to throw it around the room, all right?" She handed it over.

"Yeah." Ed managed a grin in return, taking the sandwich. "I'll try and have some spaghetti next time you make it, okay?"

"Okay!" Nodding at Ed, Winry decided she wouldn't be making spaghetti again any time soon.

X X X


	77. Hard as Diamonds

_**Hard as Diamonds  
**_

* * *

"What are you doing, Ed?"

"Uh." Hoping the fuck I wouldn't get caught by you, I thought, tucking my arm behind my back and plastering a smile across my face. "Nothing?"

"Nothing? Are you doing some sort of alchemy on my arm? Ed, I just completed your maintenance!" Winry glared at me, and I tried really hard not to think about how cute she looked. Damn it. Stupid Greed with his stupid insinuations about Winry! And stupid Donkey Kong and Lion King, too! Why did they have to talk about my stupid dreams where I could hear them, anyway? Winry was right up in my face before I even realized, just like she'd been when she was arguing with me about saving the whole country. "If you go screwing it up before you even get out of the house - "

"It's not screwed up!" I shouted back at her, bringing it out from behind my back and wriggling my fingers. "See? It works just fine!"

Winry grabbed my wrist, twisting my arm. "What is this, Ed?"

"Carbon, all right? I used the carbon to make my automail harder." I swallowed as Winry glared up at me from over my fingers.

"Will that work?" she asked.

"Uh, carbon is the hardest substance known to man," I blathered.

"You mean, besides your skull?" Reaching up, she rapped her knuckles against my head.

"Hey!" I jerked my wrist away, rubbing my head. "What the hell was that for?" As soon as I said it, I knew how dumb I had to sound. I sure as hell deserved the eye roll Winry sent my way.

Winry said, "If you want to protect your automail, use your head, dummy!"


	78. Ghost of You

**Title:** Ghost of You

**Author:** S J Smith

**Rating:** K+

**Summary: **Ed finally makes it home. Maybe.

**Disclaimer:** If I owned any of this, I wouldn't be living in Boxtown.

**Notes:** Post That Movie fic.

* * *

It's your first time back in Amestris in literally years. As you step off the train, you inhale deeply. Risembool, as always, smells like lanolin and sheep shit. For some stupid reason, your vision blurs. You shake it off to get out of the way of the rest of the passengers – all two of them - disembarking the passenger cars. You walk to the edge of the platform to take a look around. "I'm back," you say, almost under your breath as you pass the stationmaster, who nods, not realizing, maybe, who you are. Who you were, once upon a time.

But you haven't been that boy in ages, and your skin prickles at standing on the platform, wondering if anyone would even care you are here. You stare at the grass, at the cloudlike images of sheep, at the dirt road leading out of the still-small town. Before you realize it, your feet are on that road, and you're walking to the east.

The house appears before you, rising on a hill away from the road. You hesitate outside the gateway, staring at the balcony, wondering if she still sleeps in that room, or whether she sold the house. A part of you wants to go up, knock on that door, but you're afraid to find out that someone else now lives there. And if she did answer the door, what would you say? 'I'm sorry'? Even you know that isn't enough.

If you close your eyes, you can imagine Den's bark, and Winry's shout of, "You idiot, you never call!" Your body tenses in anticipation of a wrench flying at your head, but there is nothing, no barking dog, no yelling. No wrench.

You wonder if this is what being a ghost might feel like – lost in regrets.


	79. Come Home

_**Come Home  
**_

* * *

There is a prickling in your shoulder blades, like the feeling of an approaching storm. It makes you look around, check the windows, peer outside – though you don't see anything out of the usual. The sky was clear, there was a soft wind blowing, your sheets on the line are flapping softly. You can hear your chickens talking as they scrape up bugs to eat from around the yard.

Walking into the kitchen, you peer out of the window over the sink, seeing something out by the road. You lean forward, squinting a bit, trying to figure out who is there. You aren't expecting anyone, no appointments scheduled today, but there he is, watching your house. Your breath catches in your throat, and your heart pounds, but you try to settle yourself. It can't be, you think, it's never been, not in all this time you've spent waiting. But even as you're thinking that, your feet are carrying you toward the door, and you fling it open, staring at the figure at the end of the walk that leads to steps.

"Ed?" you breathe, grabbing for the railing to keep from falling down. Is it him? Is it really him? Has he finally come back to Risembool at last?

You force yourself to stand your ground, even though part of you wants to go flying down the path to the road, to hug him tight, to laugh and cry and welcome him home, but you've been burned before.

So you stand there, and wait.

Because this time, you're protecting your heart from getting broken.


	80. Waiting Game

_**Waiting Game  
**_

* * *

Everyone thought that Winry didn't mind waiting, but the truth was, she hated it. She'd learned to temper her impatience into work, because, as Granny liked to say, 'idle hands made for longer time'. Most of the time, it even worked.

After all, she'd had almost four years of waiting to hear from the Elrics after they'd left Risembool to try to find a way to get their bodies back. And even before that, when their mom died, she'd waited for them to come home from their teacher's place; waited for them to tell her _anything_about what they were doing.

It didn't mean waiting didn't bother her, but she'd developed an affinity for patience, though Ed – and Al – would probably disagree. But they didn't see her day in and day out; didn't know how long she'd waited for word on them.

After the eclipse, after she woke up again, even after the word came over the radio that Fuhrer Bradley was dead, the brothers didn't call. A month went by without any word, and Winry still waited, even though a part of her wanted so desperately to run to Central City and demand to know where the Elrics were, and what condition they were in. Instead, she swam in emotions that she couldn't put a name to, living in a turmoil. The only hope she had was, if they'd died, it would've been reported; a letter would've come, something.

When finally Den barked, Winry ran outside, all her anger draining away at the sight of two boys – two _men_- in the yard.

Maybe, this time, the wait was worth it.


	81. Missing

_**Missing  
**_

_**Written for FMA_Fic_Contest: **_for the prompt of "Mystery". It took 1st place.

* * *

Pinako watched as her granddaughter dragged all the cushions off the couch, poking in the cracks. She dropped to the floor, peering underneath, then sat back on her knees, digging her fingers into her hair. "Where is it?" she whined.

"Where's what?" Pinako asked.

"My wrench! It's gone!"

Snorting, Pinako said, "I doubt it. Where'd you leave it last?" Seriously, the girl could lose her head if it wasn't attached to her neck. Well, maybe she wasn't that bad. She did leave that screw out of Ed's automail arm that one time, though, and, while Pinako had never brought it up to her, she knew Winry would check and recheck her work in remembrance of that mistake.

"On my workbench!" At Pinako's pointed look, Winry sighed. "Granny, I know I left it there. It was right next to my needlenose pliers.

"Well, it'll turn up, I'm sure." She gestured with her pipe. "It's not like it grew legs and walked off."

* * *

Winry was going to be so pissed when she figured it out, Ed just knew it, but this time, he couldn't just leave home – leave her – without taking something to remind him. What better thing than her wrench? It wasn't like he could ask for her earrings back. But her wrench…it was almost like a part of her. And while Ed didn't think he'd sleep with it under his pillow, like she did, well…he could at least keep it close.

At least until he got back home.


	82. Awa'

_**Awa'  
**_

* * *

The smoke still curled up around the remains of the Elric house. Mr. Culbertson barely glanced its way, too intent on getting his flock moved. "Hey 'ere, hey 'ere," he called to his dog, waving his hand, "awa'!" The slinky, black and white dog turned the sheep, pushing it out and away from the house. No one wanted to be near it any more. Too many things had happened there; Trisha Elric passed, and the boys…something strange had happened to the boys. Ed's accident, and Al's, too; they were the source of gossip around the general store, but everyone shut up when Pinako walked through the door.

"Those boys had enough. We have to support them," she'd say, and nothing more about it.

The sheep turned and Kooney, the dog, pushed them back the other way with a bark.

They were good boys, Mr. Culbertson thought, maybe too smart for their own good, but good boys, none the less. Whatever had happened, that accident; why they'd left, well, wasn't any of his business.

And maybe, just maybe, they'd be home again soon.


	83. Frigid

_**Frigid  
**_

Winry shivered, wrapping her arms around herself. Hiding out in Al's chest cavity was like hiding inside an ice box. She didn't know how much longer she'd be able to stand it. Everyone had told her about the brutally cold temperatures in the Briggs Mountains, but they'd been talking about how the cold transmitted through normal automail. Steel conducted temperatures all too well, as Winry could attest. Her teeth chattered and she rubbed her arms with her hands.

"Hang on, Winry," Al warned her, and he started moving faster, jostling her around inside his armor. Her shoulder banged against the back piece. Something cut into her jacket, then, suddenly, there was no movement at all, then they crashed to the ground.

Winry pounded on Al's chest plate. "Hey!"

It was even weirder hearing Al's voice from inside his armor. "Sorry, Winry."

"We had to jump from one building to another," Ed called.

Thinking maybe she didn't need to know that, Winry called back, "Okay," even if it really wasn't. She tucked herself even tighter inside the cavity. Her nose felt frozen, and the rest of her body ached. She knew she had to have bruises where she'd never been bruised before. The metal didn't give, not at all, and while she knew that, and understood it, it was something else entirely when she was encased within it. How had knights worn this stuff, anyway?

Finally, after what seemed like forever, Alphonse stopped walking. "It's okay," he said, and opened up the chest plate. Winry tumbled out, hoping they weren't going anywhere else for a while. If Al carried her, it'd be the only way she'd be able to move. The tingling in her legs let Winry know they were asleep, and, under her gloved hands, felt chilled. She massaged her calves, wishing she had a blanket to wrap up in, and maybe some hot chocolate to drink. Taking a glance around, she knew she wouldn't get either, where they were.

From the chalkboard on the wall and a couple of little tables and chairs that had been left behind, it looked like an old schoolroom,. Al stayed in the shadows, almost blending in with the dingy, cracked walls. On his knees, Ed peered out of a dirty window. "I think it's okay," he said, his voice low. "We can stay here for a little while." Turning away from the glass, he crept over to her, tilting his head. "Are you okay?"

Winry nodded. What could she say? It had been her idea to hide out in Al's armor. "J-just a l-little cold." Her voice shook more than she wanted.

"I'm sorry it's so cold inside me." Al sounded miserable.

"S'okay," she chattered out, ignoring Ed's worried look. "We're safe, right?"

The brothers exchanged a look. "Yeah!" The smile on Ed's face was so fake, she wanted to punch him. On second thought, maybe she should, it'd probably help warm her up.

"So wh-what do we do n-now?"

Ed sat next to her, closer than he normally would. "Rest, for a little while. We need to find the bean girl first, before Kimbley or Miles does." Peering sideways, he said, "You could wait for us here."

"Nuh uh." Winry shook her head. "Wherever you guys go, I'm going, too." She wasn't at all sure they'd be able to find her again if they left her, anyway. A shiver raced through her body, making her teeth chatter again. Something moved against her and she jerked. "Hey!"

Ed scowled, but kept his arm around her. "I'm just trying to help you get warm, dummy! I can't believe you came up here without a hood on your coat." His scolding rumbled through her body. "And with those stupid boots."

"Shut up," Winry grumbled, but scooted a little closer. Just to help them both stay warm. Because Ed had to be hurting, too, with all the metal attached to his body.

"Couldn't you have at least worn pants?" he groused as he tightened his arm around her. "Instead of tights?"

"I didn't know I was going to be hiding out in Al's chest!"

"I'm sorry I'm not more comfortable," Al mourned.

"It's not your fault, Al." Realizing she wasn't shivering any more, Winry wondered if Ed had picked a fight to get their blood moving. Maybe it'd worked. She still tucked herself more tightly against him. "You make a great hiding place."

Somehow, that made it better. She could almost imagine him smiling at her. "Thanks, Winry."

"You're welcome, Al." Maybe it wasn't hot chocolate, but it warmed her up all the same.


	84. A Little Knowledge

_**A Little Knowledge  
**_

* * *

Kimbley watched the three of them together out of the corner of his eye. Little mice in a trap, and now, Fullmetal had shared that information with both his steel brother and Miss Rockbell. It didn't make much of a difference, he thought; knowledge in itself did not always set one free. In this situation, the best it could do would be to offer a shred of hope, and that, Kimbley thought, would make for an interesting story. The Elric brothers didn't need to be destroyed yet, after all, just contained. Yes, he was on the side of the homunculi, but the thought they might have some trouble with these three added a piquant edge to the whole attempt.

He wondered if the Elrics and Miss Rockbell might manage to survive the Promised Day.

Well, whatever they did, he still had his own part to play. And even then, he had a ringside seat as audience and player, both. These three, this was their story, too, and he couldn't wait to see what they did next. Their will set them on this path, freedom to choose led them along it, until the last day, and all that entailed.

Kimbley knew he could share even more, but a little knowledge was enough to tempt them and take them where he needed them to go. All he had to do now was sit back and watch the show.


	85. Dinner Time

**Title:** Dinner Time

**Author:** S J Smith

**Rating:** K+

**Summary:** Ed brings a new recipe back from Creta. Winry offers suggestions on how to make it better.

**Disclaimer:** If I owned absolutely any of this, I'd be less worried about job security.

* * *

The smell wafted its way out onto the porch, making Winry tilt her head back and take a deep sniff. "What's he cooking now?" she asked Al, who shrugged.

"Said it's a new recipe, something he learned in Creta." Al inhaled. "Smells good, doesn't it?"

"Yeah." Winry thought about Ed's requests earlier today; yeast and flour. Spice boxes sat on the counter, waiting for Ed to sprinkle them into whatever he was creating. A bowl of cut-up tomatoes waited for something, as well as a roll of hard sausage. Winry had no idea what Ed was making, but the smell was amazing. Her mouth watered, and she hoped whatever he was cooking wasn't going to be much longer.

"All right!" Ed shouted out of the house. "Come on, it's ready!"

Winry and Al clattered into the house, pausing in the doorway to the dining room. Plates were set out on the table, with a flat, round piece of dough in the middle of it. "What is it?" Al asked, as Ed cut the dough into pie-shaped wedges.

"They call it pizza pie," Ed said, "and make it a lot of ways. Everyone has a different recipe." Lifting one of the wedges onto a plate, he soon had three pieces distributed.

"It smells great, Ed," Winry said, carefully cutting the point of the wedge, and popping it into her mouth. Flavors exploded on her tongue; yeast, yes, and tomato, but spicy meat and cheese, and sweet peppers. "Oh, god," she moaned.

"Good, huh?" Ed grinned, biting into his slice.

"Amazing," Al breathed. "You can make this all the time, Ed!"

"I'm glad you like it." Glancing at Winry, he waited for her reaction.

Pulling off a string of cheese, Winry popped it into her mouth. "I may let you go traveling again, if you bring home recipes like this."

Ed's smile wasn't quite a leer, but it was close. "And other presents?"

Al groaned, but Winry leered back. "And other presents, too. But I'm not letting you eat pizza off my body." She considered. "Unless you let me eat it off yours, too."

Pushing away from the table in disgust, Al moaned, "You two have just ruined my appetite." But Winry noticed he took some pizza with him when he left the room – at least before Ed offered her another slice.

* * *

_end_


	86. Lessons Learned

_**Lessons Learned  
**_

* * *

Ed was pretty sure he could hear Winry snoring over whatever Mrs. Coyle was saying up at the front of the classroom. He hated the time wasted in school when there was so much alchemy they needed to learn before they tried to bring their mom back from the dead. Nudging Al, he pointed at a page in the alchemy book he'd brought from home. More intricate than any of the other transmutation circles he'd seen, Ed thought it might be something they'd need to investigate.

"Ooo!" Al burst out.

Mrs. Coyle turned around. "Who said that?" She peered over the top of her glasses at the kids.

A few papers rustled. Judging from the area of the room it came from, Michael Todd was the one trying to keep from laughing. Mrs. Coyle tapped her stick of chalk on the board. "All right, who can diagram this sentence for me?" Her beady eyes searched the room.

Ducking his head behind the book, Al whispered, "That's a great circle!"

"I know!" Ed beamed at his brother.

"Mrs. Coyle," Nelly said, waving her hand, "Winry's sleeping again."

"Please wake her up, Nelly. Edward Elric?"

He jumped at the sound of his name, and peeked up over the top of his study book – and the alchemy book hiding behind it. "Yes, Mrs. Coyle?"

"Would you like to come up here and diagram this sentence for the class?"

"Not really," he said, and grinned widely as most of the guys in class started laughing.

Mrs. Coyle didn't laugh, though; she folded her arms and glared at him. "Edward, get up here."

He glared back, shoving his chair back hard enough to make it squeal. "Yes, ma'am," he said, as he started up to the front of the class. Taking the chalk from Mrs. Coyle, Ed studied the sentence she'd written on the black board. iThe quick brown fox jumped over the lazy dog./i Why a fox would jump over a dog didn't make any sense at all. Was the fox being hunted? Was a farmer chasing the fox? He turned to Mrs. Coyle, his mouth opening.

She pointed at the board. "Just diagram the sentence, Ed."

With a scowl, he twirled the chalk in his fingers, glancing over his shoulder for a second. Al gave him a nervous grin and a thumb's up. Winry blinked at him, rubbing her eyes. Pitt just shrugged. Ed offered the chalk back to Mrs. Coyle.

Accepting it, she asked, "Are you giving up already?"

"Not giving up," Ed grumbled, "I just don't know how to diagram a sentence." He plowed on, "It's not like I'm going to need to know how to anyway! It's useless knowledge, not like – like – knowing when to plant or how to fix a leaky roof." Those were things Mom had said were important, and she ought to know, right? "Or how to draw a perfect circle!"

Mrs. Coyle folded her arms again. "A perfect circle?"

"Sure, for transmutations!"

"So, you think that grammar isn't good for anything? Is that what you're trying to tell me?"

Ed shrugged. "I don't see any use for it. Maybe you could let me skip those classes, and just study science and math instead? It's a lot more interesting!"

After the noise in the classroom died down, Mrs. Coyle said she wanted to see him after school. She insisted on Winry staying after, too. Al waited for them outside the school house, and made a face when they came through the door. "What happened?"

Waving a piece of paper, Ed said, "Got a note to take to the old woman." He didn't get it. It wasn't like the note would make it home anyway – Ed would make sure of that, even if Al whined and said Granny Pinako ought to read it. And Winry would still sleep through classes when she'd stay up late the night before, looking at her mom's and dad's old doctor books. Wasn't going to change anything.

And the sooner Mrs. Coyle figured that out, the better.


	87. Fortune Favors

**Fortune Favors  
**

* * *

It's a night you would've sworn you'd never have, back when you were younger and traveling around Amestris. The only thing that would compare was in Youswell, after you tricked that bastard, Yoki, out of the mines. The miners had offered you beer and all the food you could eat. Well, you accepted one, but not the other – now, though, you're old enough to drink, and Pinako Rockbell obviously plans on getting you totally pickled at the stupid barn dance.

But you've got plans, and booze won't help. So you screw your courage to the sticking point, get to your feet, and look across the Nedobeck's barn to where Winry sits perched on a couple of bales of hay. She grins when she sees you and your mouth goes dry. How'd she get so pretty?

Winry's chatting with a bunch of girls. You might recognize some of them, if you think about it hard. That's not why you're here, though, you're going to walk over there, and ask Winry to dance.

Right now. Just pick up your feet and go.

Any second now.

Yup. You're going to go over there – just as soon as you have a drink. Maybe you do need some liquid courage. Whirling around, you grab the nearest mug and down the beer. Gah. It tastes awful!

You turn back around, looking for Winry. She's not on the bale of hay. She's – she's on the dance floor, with your stupid brother!

Damn Al and his bold moves.


	88. Move Forward

**Move Forward  
**

* * *

When you pick yourself up off the ground and start walking forward, always _forward_, you don't get a chance to look back. You don't let yourself think about what happened in the past, or what caused those happenings – you just keep moving forward, letting that mantra fill your head, because if you stop and look back, you know that you'll lose what little composure you have.

You have to grow up so fast, and you have to leave childhood behind, and with it all the stupid mistakes, because if you dwell on those, you know you'll curl up in a ball and scream at the world, begging for your life the way it was (_Mom!_ _Al!_). But you can't do that, you have to keep searching for a way to get your bodies back, and damn everything that happened in the past, and then, later, you have to find a way to get back home, to get back to Al, to make sure he lived.

And it isn't until you hear Al shouting, "But what about Winry?", you know you can never, ever look back, no matter what the cost, and you have to keep moving forward, even if it takes you away from your home for good.


	89. Ivory Towers

**Ivory Towers  
**

* * *

"Are you sure this is what you want?" Alphonse folded his arms, looking dubiously up at the brick and marble façade of the building, like a castle, looming before them.

Edward clenched his teeth, his hands, hidden in the pockets of his coat, fisting. "Yeah," he said, "yeah, I'm sure."

"Okay." Patting him on the back, Alphonse added, "Do your best."

"Always."

X X X

Edward Elric was a surprising student, with a somewhat peculiar accent. He argued with his professors, with other students, eventually with the dean of the college. And, in less than five years, he'd managed to amass enough credits to graduate – with a doctorate in chemistry.

X X X

"Now what are you going to do?" Alphonse wanted to know, after the celebration for Edward's graduation was over – and Edward was sober again, after nursing a hangover from all the beer he'd had.

"With all I've learned, I thought maybe I'd teach."

Eyes widening in horror, Alphonse asked, "Teach? Like Teacher-teach?"

Edward shook his head, waving off Alphonse's worry. "Like teach in a university capacity."

"With your patience?" Alphonse couldn't help but blurt out.

"I can be patient!" Edward snapped in return.

Alphonse raised his eyebrows pointedly.

"I can!"

"Yeah, we'll see about that, Brother."

X X X

The college campus was like the grounds of a castle, and Edward would know – he'd explored enough of them with Alphonse, seeking a way to return to Amestris. There were castles, too, in the United States of America, where they'd eventually settled, belonging to folks with names like Rockefeller and Flagler and Carnegie. Those castles were nothing like the one laid out in front of Edward at the moment – this castle, an Ivy League college, its ivory towers and hallowed halls all dedicated to one thing – the acquisition of knowledge.

Alphonse watched his big brother settle into a routine, thinking he'd never seen Edward happier, except when they'd first been reunited. Yes, students who didn't apply themselves made Edward furious, and cheating students were subjected to Edward's own brand of punishment (_And Brother said he wouldn't teach like Teacher!_ Alphonse had thought the first time Edward cackled about what he'd done to his wayward student).

And then, one day, Edward came home from classes, almost as dazed as if he'd stopped off for a few drinks at the local pub beforehand.

"What is it?" Alphonse wanted to know.

"A girl," Edward said, throwing himself into a chair at the kitchen table. "A girl in my chemistry class."

Alphonse rolled his eyes. "What's the problem with that? You're the one who argued to allow women on campus and in classrooms."

Edward thumped his balled fist on the table. "She…her name is Wendy Rochenfeld." He turned a haunted gaze to Alphonse. "She looks like Winry!"

"Oh." A stupid smile spread across his face. "When can I meet her?"

X X X

It wasn't that easy, Alphonse found out. The rules stated no fraternization with students, and he could see where that made sense. And while Edward and rules only had a general passing acquaintance with one another, Edward did like his job, and didn't want to lose it. Besides, Miss Rochenfeld seemed taken with a Chinese prince, a Yao Ling, who followed her around like a puppy, or so Edward would say, gritting his teeth and making his automail whine when he clenched his fists over it.

Alphonse hid a smile, and suggested Brother host a party for some of his students, and invite them both to it. When Edward totted out the fraternization rules, Alphonse retorted with a, "Consider it a reward. How about a picnic? Everyone could bring something. And I could meet Wendy. Off-campus. During the day. With lots of other students as chaperones."

"I don't need a fucking chaperone, Al!"

"Sure you don't, Brother," Alphonse muttered as Edward stomped off.

X X X

Alphonse almost wished Miss Wendy Rochenfeld didn't look quite so much like Winry. When Brother introduced them, it was hard to not hug her. And her smile, and her voice and her hair and – Alphonse sighed, and had to move away from her deliberately.

"Told you," Edward said, but Alphonse noticed he didn't sound happy about it.

X X X

Edward threw a pencil across the living room.

"What is it?"

"I need to clear my head." Getting up, Edward stalked out of the room, and Alphonse heard him open the closet door in the hall. His brother left the apartment, slamming the door behind him. Waiting for a few seconds, Alphonse got up, heading for the pack of papers his brother'd left behind.

He expected tests, not what he found – transmutation circles, Edward's old code written around them. Intricate circles, described and inscribed, pages and pages of notes. Closing his eyes, Alphonse rubbed his temples, thinking hard for a few minutes, then sat down to start reviewing what Edward had done so far.

X X X

"You're the one who said we couldn't go home," Alphonse said, confronting his brother.

Edward grunted, slumping into his chair, his head bowed, lower lip sticking out.

"What's this?" He flapped the pages with the transmutation circles on them in front of Edward.

"Stupidity," Edward said, snatching the pages. He hesitated for a second, then ripped them to shreds. "Stupidity, Al! There's no way to get back home. We're here for good, stuck in this world."

"Is this about Wendy?"

"No." At Alphonse's pointed look, Edward made a noise deep in his throat. "Maybe. I don't fucking know." Throwing his hands in the air, he leaped out of the chair, pacing across the room. "I just – just." His voice dropped to a bare whisper. "Sometimes, I miss home, too, Al."

X X X

_Ivory towers can't protect hearts, no matter how high the castle walls built around them,_ Alphonse wrote in his journal. _But we're together, and that has to be enough for now._


	90. Opening Night

**Opening Night  
**

Note: Post-That Movie. And future fic.

* * *

At Grumman's Xingese Theater, on opening night, photographers and reporters paced along a red carpet barricaded with silken ropes, stopping the celebrities to get quotes and raise excitement from those gathered outside, waiting for a chance to see _The Fullmetal Alchemist_.

In all the commotion, no one paid any attention to an older woman, walking with a cane, a younger woman holding her arm. During the movie, only the girl heard her grandmother's barely audible reactions. Afterward, when the lights came up, the old woman sighed, wiping her eyes. "Take me home, Penny," she whispered.

They shuffled out of the theater, through the reporters still milling around. One of them stepped up to the pair. "What did you think of the movie?"

The older woman stopped walking, saying, "It was all wrong."

The reporter chuckled, shaking his head. "And you'd know that how? Friend of his?"

"You could say that. I was Edward Elric's mechanic, and one of the last people to see him here, in this world." She tapped her cane on the ground. "When I say the movie people got his life wrong, I'd know what I was talking about." Eyes faded by age gazed off into the street, perhaps seeing something else, some time else. "He'd have hated all this." She took her granddaughter's arm. "Let's go, Penny. I've seen enough exaggerations tonight."

"Granny," Penny chided gently.

"I'm just saying, if they couldn't even get his height right, they shouldn't have done the movie."


	91. In the Cool of the Morning

**In the Cool of the Morning  
**

**Note:** I consider this to be a sequel to "Ivory Towers".

* * *

Alphonse stepped out onto the porch, taking a deep breath of the chilly morning air, washed clean from last night's rain. Mornings like these, after a rain that left everything crisp and clean; the buildings shining in the dawn's light, with spring flowers raising their heads out to bask in the sunshine, when everyone seemed just a little bit cheerier, going about their morning business, that Alphonse missed home the most.

He'd never say anything to Edward, because his brother had enough on his mind. The college, and his students, kept him busy, and Alphonse hoped his brother didn't think too much on Amestris, and everything they'd left behind. It wasn't true, of course. Alphonse knew Edward did miss home. The drawings Alphonse found, some mornings, after long nights when his brother hadn't been able to sleep - transmutation circles, intricate and elaborate, made up of lines drawn in complete confidence, with notes ranging around them in Amestrian, Greek, Latin - explained far better than words how Edward really felt. Alphonse could read his brother's dreams in those circles, and, if Edward's heart was a little more brittle, it might break under the weight of those fantasies.

The door opened behind him, and Edward thumped out, his automail tread making the wooden porch boom. "Nng."

"Good morning to you, too," Alphonse told him, smiling slightly.

Edward dropped his folded arms to the railing around the porch, using them to pillow his forehead. "Damn," he muttered.

The corners of Alphonse's mouth twisted down. The crisp morning weather after last night's temperature drop during the rain had to leave Edward in pain. Automail and old scars took their toll on his body, leaving his muscles knotted and nearly crippling him, some days. "Do you want me to make you some coffee?" His brother had taken a liking to the thick, black brew that Americans favored over tea.

"Yeah." Edward didn't even bother looking up. His left hip cocked out; his right shoulder slumped, all the clues Alphonse needed to know how much his brother hurt.

"Aspirin, too?"

Edward grunted in agreement, and Alphonse went back inside to get his brother's coffee. No matter how much he wanted to enjoy it, the brisk morning air seemed as curdled as spoiled milk, now.

X X X


	92. The Sun on the Snow

**The Sun on the Snow **

**Note: ** Takes place during chapter 80 of the manga, "A Vision of Father".

* * *

Snow covered everything, as far as she could see. Winry shaded her eyes, trying to block the sunlight flaring on the expanse of white. Her head pounded from the glare, the pain making her eyes tear. Or so she told herself.

Turning back toward the Ishvalan slum town they'd been hiding in, Winry tried not to think what the homunculus had said about Edward. That he'd gone missing in Baschool, in a mine collapse. Alphonse tried to comfort her, to remind her just who Envy had been talking about, and Winry agreed, but still. Edward wasn't always the smartest person. His emotions got the better of him, and he did stupid things. And he thought he was indestructible!

Winry shoved her gloved hands deep into her pockets, bowing her head against the cool breeze. Her hair drifted around, and she pulled her hand out to sweep a strand of hair behind her ear. Fingers hesitating over the lobe of her ear, she wondered if Edward still had her earrings. If he was actually safe, or if something bad had happened, like Envy suggested. She sniffed, blinking her eyes. He had to be okay. He was Edward Elric, her friend, and he'd survived everything else thrown at him. Thinking anything else would be like losing faith.

"Hey, Winry!" Alphonse trudged up the hill where she stood, waving his hands over his helmet. "We're getting ready to go – Winry?" Pausing in front of her, still lower down the hill than her, he cocked his helmet to the side, making the metal squeal. "You're not crying, are you?"

Mustering a smile, Winry shook her head. "No, Al. It's the glare." She waved her hand at the snow behind her. "Just the sun on the snow."

_~ end ~_


End file.
